A Life for a Life
by Carol
Summary: DS #9 A feared colleague from the Official's past comes to collect on a deadly favor. Will it end up costing Darien his sanity or his life?
1. Default Chapter

DS #9 A Life for a Life (Prologue)

By Carol M.

Summary: A feared colleague from the Official's past comes to collect on a favor. Will it end up costing Darien his sanity or his life? 

Spoilers: a little TDYK, BC, Reunion

Rating: R 

Disclaimer: Keeping my fingers crossed for a new owner!!! I'm not ready to give up yet!

Devil's Silver Stories: Devil's Silver, Gilligan and Mrs. Howell, Follow the Breadcrumbs, Brother to Brother, A Tale of Two Brothers, Wicked Game, A Wedding Story, Uninvited (all available at Fanfiction.net under Carol)

Note: So here it comes again, the next Devil's Silver story. From what I can tell this one is going to be quite long and full of angst, Darien torture, romance, sweetness, drama, cliffhangers, the works. Did I mention Darien torture and angst? I suggest packing up a little DS survival kit which should include the following: ropes, tissues, a barf bag, maybe a little extra rope. Anyway, I'm kind of exploring the Official's past and present in this one, so I took the liberty of making some stuff up concerning his career background. Hopefully it will seem somewhat accurate. Also, I know nothing of pregnancy and babies, so if I mess up some details, I apologize. Other than that, sit back, relax and buckle your seatbelts, it's going to be a very long and bumpy ride. Enjoy!

1955

Twenty-two year old Charlie Borden looked himself over in the mirror, trying to detect if he did indeed look like a proper CIA agent-in-training. His black suit had cost him nearly all of his savings, but he quickly determined that it had been worth every penny when he saw the suave and sophisticated man looking back at him in the mirror. His brown hair had been neatly trimmed only the day before and still had that fresh, just been cut look. His crisp blue eyes were glowing with muted excitement against the blackness of the suit and the neatness of his hair. He looked young, agile and very prepared. Prepared for what he wasn't sure, but whatever it was, it was sure to be exciting.

He stepped out of the bathroom of Poncho's Taco Shop and absently wondered how long this dive would last. Of course, it was a favorite meeting place for local intelligence agents. The laid back atmosphere and frequent surfer customers always guaranteed privacy. A couple of suits in the place was enough to drive the surfers back out onto the beach, the sandy blonde wave heads not wanting to get anywhere near something that might say nine to five yuppie.

Charlie strutted back to his table and sat down, sipping on the large watered down Coke he had ordered and grimacing in disgust at the taco sitting on his plate. He memorized the faces of every person who walked in and out of the restaurant; mentally cataloging every detail about them, looking for things that just weren't right. Doing just what a good little CIA agent should. He glanced at his watch and the trace feeling of nervousness tore through his stomach. His new partner would be here any minute.

He reached into his pocket and brought out a pack of cigarettes. He took one out and lit it with a match from the Poncho's Taco Shop matchbook sitting at his table. He took a deep drag, letting the smoke fill up his lungs to their capacity. He blew the smoke out, watching as it made circular, floaty patterns in the air. Through the smoke, he saw a tall man dressed in a sharp looking navy blue suit march into the shop. Charlie gave the dark haired man who could've only been a few years older then himself his full attention.

"Royce McClellan?" he asked as he sat up and extended his hand.

Royce ignored him and sat down in the chair opposite Charlie. He looked him over and gave a slight shake of his head. "God, you practically scream first day, kid," he said, looking down. "Damn partner, I told them I work alone. But they stick me with you anyway," he said under his breath.

Charlie did his best to ignore the slight insult and took another drag off his cigarette.

Royce nodded towards the cigarette. "Those things will kill ya, you know."

Charlie exhaled his smoke and flicked ash into the ashtray. "I've been told that lots of things in this business can get me killed. I figure smoking is the least of my problems."

Royce smiled and emitted a hearty laugh from his throat. "Son, you have no idea what you're talking about." He leaned forward and looked at Charlie expectantly. "Have you ever killed a man, Charlie? Have you ever watched an entire family gunned down by a loony terrorist? Have you ever smelt the burnt flesh from the victims of a bombing? Huh? Have you?"

Charlie put out his cigarette in the ashtray and shook his head. His face was noticeably paler then it had been seconds earlier. "No, I can't say that I have."

Royce stood up from his chair and gave him a cool grin. "You will. Come on, were going to go do some exciting spy stuff."

Charlie nodded and stood up, throwing a few dollars on the table. He followed Royce out the door, all the while scanning the crowd for suspicious characters. He was led to a sturdy looking black government issued car "Get in," said Royce.

Charlie did what he was told and quickly got in the passenger's seat of the car. Royce joined him on the other side in the driver's seat and instantly took out an expensive looking cigar from the glove compartment of the car. He lit and sucked at the cigar until the car was filled with thick smoke. Charlie raised his eyebrows as Royce took a wealthy drag and blew it out his nose. 

"Hey, if you're going to kill yourself, you might as well do it the right way," said Royce as he started the car and pulled off into the street.

They drove for about a half-hour in awkward silence. Charlie kept glancing over at Royce, eager to ask him a ton of questions, but the expression on his new partner's face told him that now was not the time. Charlie looked at the scenery passing by his window and realized that they were out in the middle of nowhere. "What are we doing out here?" he asked.

"Meeting a very, very bad man, Chuck. Can I call you Chuck?" he asked in a sarcastic tone.

Charlie cleared his throat and nodded, not wanting to let Royce know that he detested the nickname Chuck. He let his hand caress down the sides of his torso and felt the generous bump of the service revolver in the holster under his coat. Brand spanking new, never even been fired. He wondered if all of that would change after today.

Without warning, Royce pulled off the road into what looked to be an abandoned field. He drove the car another 20 yards and then shut off the engine. "Out," said Royce as he himself got out of the car and nodded towards a blue car parked about a 100 yards away.

Charlie did what he was told and swiftly exited his own side of the car. He had to run to catch up to Royce who was already in a fast walk towards the other car. "So what's going on? Who are we meeting?" asked Charlie when he finally caught up.

"Just shut up and leave everything to me. I didn't count on having a tagalong when I made the deal with this guy. If you screw this up, you could get us both killed," he said tensely. "Just stand there and be cool."

"Okay," said Charlie as he eyed a tall man standing near the other car.

Royce sped up his pace again and effectively left Charlie in his dust. "Jimmy, baby, you got something for me?" he said as he walked up to the man standing near the car. The man was in his late thirties with light hair and a murderous gleam about him. Royce gave him a playful punch to the shoulder.

The man eyed Charlie suspiciously. "Who the hell is this?" he asked.

"Oh him, he's no one. Just my shadow," said Royce. "I didn't want to leave his green ass in the car cause I figured he'd get lost. Might as well let him out to play with the big boys."

Charlie was eyeing the light-haired man intensely, unconsciously doing the visual catalog thing again as Royce and the man became embroiled in a somewhat heated conversation. Something was definitely off with this guy. The man kept darting his eyes nervously between Royce and Charlie, fidgeting with something in his pocket. Charlie's eyes went to the pocket and saw the outline of something that looked suspiciously like a gun.

Instinct and survival skills took over and Charlie clumsily fumbled for his own gun. But Charlie was just too slow. He suddenly felt his body being snatched up by the man, a piece of cold metal coming to rest on his temple. The man tightened his finger on the trigger, seconds away from blowing the young agent's head into a million bloody pieces.

In a movement so fast that Charlie would still wonder about it 45 years later, Royce pulled a gun out of his holster and shot the man in one gracefully fluid motion.

The man's blood splattered all over Charlie's face as his head blew off and the body fell to the ground. Charlie's stomach heaved and he vomited all over the ground beside the body. When he was finished, he shakily got to his feet and glanced at the dead man. He then looked up at Royce with a haunted gaze. "Thanks," he whispered softly.

Royce sighed in disgust. "You just remember this, kiddie. You remember I saved your worthless ass the first freakin day on the goddamn job. Nearly got my own head blown off in the process, you freakin idiot," he shouted, eyeing Charlie with an intense glare. "Messing up my record because my damn partner is gun happy. Not to mention that fact that I just blew away a guy who had information that could have saved millions of lives!"

Charlie looked back towards their black car, wanting to run to it and drive away, pretending like none of this had ever happened. With hesitation, he looked back at the body lying on the ground and shook his head. This body was a first for him, but he suspected it was only the beginning of a long career filled with dead bodies. And violence. And torture. And bloodshed. 

Royce opened the trunk of the man's car and then carefully picked up the body, tossing it in carelessly amongst a spare tire and old blankets. He slammed the trunk closed and kicked one of the tires. "You owe me, son, you owe me for this one," he muttered over and over again in a way that downright scared the hell out of Charlie.

The words seeped into Charlie's brain, knowing deep down inside that he had just made some sort of sick accidental deal with the devil. But it would be another 45 years until the devil would come back to collect his payment.

TBC


	2. Part 1

DS #9 A Life for a Life (1/?)

By Carol M.

See prologue for details. Next part will be out either tomorrow or Saturday. Enjoy it, folks!

Present Day

5 months after Uninvited

"Tracey?"

"Nope."

"Kristin?" 

"Uh, uh."

"Brianne?"

"No."

Darien tossed down the book of baby names in frustration and curled farther into his wife's lap. "I give up then!" he said dramatically.

Claire smiled and picked up the fallen book, which had been purchased by Darien the day before. She flipped through the pages, eyeing each of the entries with a fine-toothed comb. She was on a determined mission to find the perfect name for their child. "Oh, oh, what about Beatrice?" she asked excitably as she glanced down at Darien's face in her lap, which was barely visible from beneath the swell of her very pregnant middle.

Darien made a mock vomiting noise. "Beatrice Fawkes? Are you freakin kidding me here? The kid would sound like she was a character from a Harry Potter book, or something!"

Claire rolled her eyes and continued scanning the book, moving one of her hands down to Darien's head to run her fingers through his thick hair. Darien sighed and closed his eyes, reveling in the relaxing sensation of being petted like a cat. "Maybe we should work on boys names for awhile?" he offered.

"All right. What are your suggestions?" she asked curiously as she turned to the boys name section of the book.

"Kevin Robert Fawkes," said Darien somewhat wistfully.

Claire smiled sadly and set down the book. "I love it," she said as she struggled to lean down and kiss Darien. 

Darien craned his head up so their lips were able to meet in a quick peck. "Here's hoping we have a boy, right? Cause the way this chick thing is going, our daughter's going to be named Velma or some crap," he said as he settled back down in Claire's lap.

"Hmm, Velma Fawkes," said Claire teasingly.

"Oh, no, don't even think about it," said Darien in a threatening tone.

Claire laughed and started running both of her hands through Darien's hair, massaging his scalp and styling his hair into an even spikier hairdo than normal. "Go to sleep Mr. Fawkes, you have to work in the morning."

"Yeah, unlike some Keeper's I know who get to spend all day in bed watching soap operas," said Darien sleepily as his eyes drifted shut.

"Hey, now, I seem to remember you doing the same thing a couple of months ago," she said.

"Yeah well, that wasn't exactly a walk in park," he replied. "Fortunately I have a wife who understands the fact that her husband likes to be babied."

"Even though he'll never admit it," she replied.

"Uh huh," said Darien as sleep finally started to take him. "Night, Claire."

"Goodnight, Darien. Sweet dreams," she replied softly.

Without fail, two minutes later Darien was snoring. He was just so predictable in that unpredictable way of his. It was one of the things she loved most about him, even though quite frankly she could do without the snoring. She caressed her abdomen with one hand and continued to massage Darien's hair with the other. She inhaled deeply and couldn't suppress the small amount of butterflies that entered her stomach when she got a whiff of Darien's scent. The two things she loved the most were in bed with her and she couldn't have been happier. She only hoped that Darien felt the same way.

She leaned down and glanced at Darien's sleeping face, drool already leaking from the corner of his mouth. His lips were relaxed into a peaceful smile. Yep, she concluded, Darien Fawkes was happy as well.

**

"Good job, kiddies," said the Official as he gazed at the stack of surveillance photos sitting on his desk.

"Speak for yourself there, chief. I think I got a serious case of whiplash from being used as a human air bag by Monroe there in the Bat Mobile," said Darien as he rolled his aching neck and shoulders and slouched further into his chair in the Official's office.

"You insulting my driving, partner?" asked Bobby in a hurt tone from his seat next to Darien.

"Yeah, man I am. Look at me, I can hardly turn my head," said Darien as he tried to move his neck and was instead rewarded with a sharp stab of pain that caused him to wince. He looked over at the seat next to him where Alex was trying to hide her amusement. "Hey there sister, that is ain't no laughing matter, okay. You could've freakin killed me," he said dramatically.

Alex rolled her eyes. "Don't be so melodramatic, Fawkes. What's important is that we got the intel we needed and didn't get caught by the bad guys."

"Thanks to my expert driving skills, chief," said Bobby, rubbing his chin.

The Official cleared his throat and stared at the trio of agents. "Very good, very good. Since you all risked life and limb to get these photos, I've decided to give you three the rest of the afternoon off."

Darien eyed the Official suspiciously. "You're kidding, right?"

"No son, I'm not kidding. Go home and have Claire examine your injury," said the Official with a hearty smile.

"Whoa, whoa, who are you and what have you done with our boss?" asked Darien.

Bobby elbowed Darien sharply in the side. "Shut up, Fawkes."

"Can't I do anything nice for my agents without there being some kind of ulterior motive?" asked the Official.

"No, you can't. What's going on?" asked Darien.

"Well let's just say we're having a little in-house review from the Bureau of Weights and Measures today and I don't want anything to mess up our finances," said the Official.

"Afraid we'll embarrass you, huh?" said Darien.

"Yes," said the Official.

Darien made a clicking sound with his tongue. "Gotcha," he said. "Well in that case I'll be…"

Darien was interrupted by Eberts coming through the office door in somewhat of a hurry. "Sir, there's someone outside who wants to see you. He's says it's urgent."

"Who is it?" asked the Official curiously.

"He wouldn't say, sir," said Eberts.

"Okay, show him in," said the Official.

"Right away, sir," said Eberts as he stepped out the door.

"Right away, sir," mocked Bobby.

"Okay, you three, out and go home," said the Official gruffly.

"With pleasure," said Darien as he stood up.

The trio was about to make their way out the door when an older man carrying a thick file folder barged through the door from the other side. "I'm sorry," said the man as he nearly bashed into Darien.

"No problem, man," said Darien as he walked out the door followed by Bobby and Alex, who were exchanging star struck glances at the man entering the office.

The man looked at the Official, who had his head down looking at the surveillance photos. The man cleared his throat. "Hello Chuck," he said loudly.

The Official's head snapped up and his mouth opened in shock. "Royce… what the hell are you doing here?"

Royce walked over to the chairs in front of the Official's desk and sat down. "Came to reminisce about old times. Me saving your life, stuff like that," he replied coldly. He looked around the office and nodded in approval. "You've done well for yourself, Charlie. I'm proud of you."

The Official nodded slightly. "I could say the same about you. Head of the most covert anti-terrorist group in the country is no small potatoes."

Royce smiled. "No, it's not. But you know I was thinking about you the other day. I was wondering how the hell this Agency has been so successful, particularly in the last year or so," said Royce as he sat up and leaned towards the Official. " I did a little research, Chuck. Guess what I found?"

"What?" asked the Official innocently.

"You have an invisible agent by the name of," Royce opened his file and flipped through several pages, "oh let's see, Darien Fawkes, I believe."

"What do you want Royce?" asked the Official harshly.

"Just a favor from my old partner," said Royce as he threw the file on the Official's desk. The Official eyed it somewhat hesitantly and then picked it up, skimming the pages. After several minutes of stone cold silence, the Official threw the file back at Royce. "I can't," he said simply.

"You can't or you won't?" asked Royce.

"He can't and he won't," replied the Official.

"Oh really. The information in this file tells me otherwise," said Royce.

"Look, you can have any other agent you want, just not him. He's married and he's got a baby on the way. He can't do the job," said the Official. "I'm sorry, Royce, I really am."

"That's unfortunate, Chuck," said Royce coldly. "But you know what, I'm going to forgive you. That's what partners are for, right? To watch your back and forgive you for stupid mistakes like almost getting your partner killed," he said as he stood up. "I'll just come to you for the next job."

The Official let out a breath he didn't even know he'd been holding. "Thank you. I promise, whatever you need, you can have next time. I haven't forgotten what you did for me and I assure you, I will repay the favor some day."

Royce gave the Official a chilly smile. "I know you will, partner. We should get together some time and catch up," he said with an odd gleam in his eye that the Official didn't like.

"Yeah," said the Official softly.

Royce waved and then walked out the door, letting it slam a little harder than necessary.

The Official quickly picked up his phone and pushed a button. "Eberts, find Hobbes and Monroe. See if they're still in the building."

He hung up the phone and took a harsh breath, trying to calm the rapid beating of his heart. He looked up with fear and was rewarded with relief when his door opened several minutes later and Bobby and Alex stepped through.

"You wanted to see us, chief?" asked Bobby.

The Official nodded. "I need you two to watch Fawkes and Claire for a few days."

"Does this have anything to about Royce McClellan?" asked Alex.

The Official gave her a startled look. "How do you know about Royce McClellan?"

"Well sir, he's pretty much legendary in the spook world," offered up Bobby. "He's like the Tom Cruise of government work."

"Tom Cruise or not, I need some guards on Fawkes. I'm assigning five agents to watch his house and I want you two outside in the van. Anything funny happens, you pull him out of there and bring him to the Agency," said the Official.

"What's going on, sir?" asked Bobby in a worried tone. "Is Fawkes in danger?"

"Yes…no…I really don't know. I just want to make sure he's safe and protected," said the Official.

"You want us to tell Fawkes about this, sir?" asked Alex.

"No, he doesn't need to know. He's got enough on his plate right now then to having to deal with something that might turn about to be nothing," said the Official.

Bobby nodded. "We got his back, chief. Don't worry about it."

Alex nodded in agreement.

"Good, thank you. Get out of here and find Fawkes," said the Official impatiently.

"Yes, sir," said Bobby as he stepped to the door and opened it, letting Alex walk through ahead of him. He gave the Official an intense, questioning stare and then followed her out the door.

The Official closed his eyes, scenes from his past floating through his mind. He reached into his drawer and pulled out a canister of Rolaid tablets. He took out a tablet and chewed it harshly, swallowing hard as the chalky substance made its way through his system. Then he picked up his phone again and dialed. "Eberts, get me five of our best field agents, excluding Hobbes and Monroe."

He slammed down the phone and tried to beat the burning hole in his stomach that was getting worse by the minute. Somehow, he had a feeling that the ulcer that had been quiet for months was back with a vengeance. Just like Royce McClellan.

TBC


	3. Part 2

DS #9 A Life for a Life (2/?)

By Carol M.

See prologue for details

Um, not sure when the next part will be out. Either tomorrow or Sunday. Enjoy, kiddies!

Claire looked up in surprise from the pile of files in her lap when she heard the door to the apartment open. Darien emerged, looking sore and exhausted.

"What happened? Why are you home so early?" asked Claire with urgency as she struggled to get out of the bed.

Darien put a hand up to stop her. "It's okay, stay in bed. I just got a little banged up is all. The Official let us out of school early," said Darien as he drifted towards the bed, crumpling in the center of it. He held up his wrist. "Need a shot," he muttered.

Claire nodded in agreement when she saw that his tattoo read 3 segments green, 6 segments. She reached into the drawer next to the nightstand and pulled out a fresh syringe of counteragent that she had prepared that morning in the temporary lab she had set up in their apartment. She ejected the air bubbles from the syringe and then carefully injected the contents into Darien's arm. Darien moaned and then sagged further into the bed in exhaustion.

"Tell me what happened?" asked Claire with concern as she pulled Darien closer to her.

"Hobbes tried to take Golda to the Indy 500, that's what happened. I think I might have pulled every muscle in my neck and upper back," said Darien, sighing in discomfort.

"Bloody, Darien you can't even ride in a car without getting injured," she said with amusement.

Darien looked up at her with slight disgust. "Are you going to fix me here or are you going to make fun of my tragic plight?"

Claire gave him a large grin and then carefully removed his shirt and jacket. Then she rolled him on to his stomach and began examining his neck and back. She pressed firmly against the spot where his spinal cord started, eliciting a harsh moan out of Darien. 

"It looks like you just strained some muscles," she said after a few more minutes of poking and prodding.

"What do we do about that?" asked Darien.

"We do this," said Claire as she started firmly kneading the muscles of his neck and back. At first Darien's groans were pain-filled, but after a few minutes they became moans of relief. 

"Oh god," he said in a voice filled with ecstasy. "Why do you do this to me?" he asked.

"Do what?" she asked innocently.

"You get me all hot and bothered when you know I can't freakin perform in my injured and pained condition," he said.

Claire smiled and shook her head, continuing to work magic on Darien's back. When she was done with the massage, she placed a gentle kiss on the back of his neck. "There, all better."

"Um…could you maybe keep doing that," he said in a near pleading tone.

"Do what?" asked Claire.

"That thing where you kissing me," he replied as he pushed his face into the comforter.

"Oh this?" asked Claire devilishly as she placed a trail of kisses down his back.

"Yeah, that," replied Darien in a muffled voice.

"With pleasure," said Claire as she continued her ministrations with her lips.

**

"I just can't figure it out," said Bobby as he scanned the foyer of Darien's apartment building from the van.

"Figure what out?" asked Alex as she picked up some binoculars to scan the street.

"McClellan. What would he want with Fawkesy?" asked Bobby.

"Well, McClellan is a very powerful man with a very powerful organization. Maybe he needed Fawkes for a mission or something," replied Alex as she continued to scan the streets.

"Something's off with this thing though. You saw the Official, he was spooked out of his head. And let me tell you, that man does not get spooked easy, my friend," said Bobby.

"Well whatever is, Fawkes and Claire are safe. There's no way anybody is getting past us or the agents posted around the building," said Alex as she set down the binoculars.

"I think Fawkes has a right to know about this," said Bobby as he glanced back at Alex. "Don't you agree? Wouldn't you want to know?"

"Know what, Bobby? We don't even know what's going on," said Alex.

"Hey, Bobby Hobbes knows exactly what's going on," he said confidently.

"Oh yeah? What's going on then?" asked Alex.

"McClellan wants our see-through boy for something big, something really big," said Bobby as he once again glanced at the foyer.

"Hobbes, do you ever listen to yourself?" asked Alex with amusement.

"As a matter of fact I do. You shouldn't take my hunches lightly there, Monroe. I'm normally right," said Bobby defensively.

"Just keep telling yourself that, Bobby," said Alex as she picked up a walkie-talkie. "Agent one, this is base, check in, over," said Alex into the device.

"This is Agent Parker reporting, all clear in the alley," said the voice of Agent Parker.

"Okay, good," said Alex as she switched over to another channel. "Agent two, report."

"All clear in the stair, Agent Hunter, over," replied the agent over the microphone.

Alex continued the process with the other agents and breathed a sigh of relief when everyone had given them the all-clear sign. "See Bobby, what did I tell you? Everything's fine. The Official just went a little overboard, that's all."

"For once Monroe, I hope you're right," said Bobby as he once again scanned the foyer.

Several hours later, darkness had fallen, encasing the outside of the apartment building in a black velvety fog. Bobby was still checking the foyer every two seconds, while Alex was busy surveying the windows.

"Why the hell does he always leave his windows open?" asked Alex.

"Cause he's a little punk who doesn't know any better," replied Bobby. He picked up the walkie-talkie and turned it on the proper channel. "Papa bear to all cubs, papa bear to all cubs, what's your sig rep, over?"

"This is Agent Parker reporting. I got a black Suburban parked about a mile away. Looks like…" Parker's voice faded out, replaced by static.

"Parker, report, report, what's going on?" asked Bobby urgently. "Agent 2, report!" A deafening silence greeted him from the walkie-talkie.

Bobby glanced up at the apartment in a slight panic. He quickly picked up his cell phone and started to dial Darien's number. When he realized he wasn't getting a signal, he threw down the phone in disgust. "It's been jammed," he said grimly.

He was about to get out of the van, when he saw the reflection of a man in the side mirror easing along Golda towards his position in the driver's seat. "We got company, Monroe," whispered Bobby as he cocked his gun and waited for the man to approach him.

Seconds later, the man was at the window.

"Nice try, pal," said Bobby as he aimed his gun at the man's head. "But you forgot who you…" Bobby lost consciousness as a harsh spray hit him in the face.

"Hobbes!" yelled Alex as she aimed her gun at the man at the driver's window. She felt a sting in the back of her neck, and the world started to dim around her. Seconds later, she too was slumped over unconscious in her seat.

The two men joined together in the front of the van. "Team 6, it's a go. Retrieve target now. Over and out," said one of the men into a walkie-talkie of his own.

**

Claire let Darien's snoring lull her in into a deep reading state of mind. She had once again started going through the file folders, studying readouts on counteragent and quicksilver levels. She was immersing herself in data, trying to make all the information a permanent part of her brain. She knew that after the baby came she just wouldn't have the time for a little light reading.

She was about to reach a particularly interesting section in one of the files on the effect of quicksilver on hair growth when the electricity suddenly went off. She looked around in the darkness, feeling out of sorts for a few moments until her eyes adjusted to the lack of light. She fumbled for the phone next to the bed and after a few failed attempts, found it. She put her ear to the receiver and was about to dial out when she realized the phone was dead. She replaced the phone in the holder, starting to get a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach.

"Darien," she whispered as she shook the lump buried under the covers next to her. "Darien, wake up," she said urgently.

"Hmmm, wuz going on?" she heard him say in a muffled voice.

She reached down and pulled the covers off his face.

"Whoa, did you forget to pay the electricity bill, Keep?" asked Darien in a sleepy voice as he realized the apartment was pitch black and way too quiet.

"Something's wrong," she said in a fearful tone.

Darien shook his head, trying to clear the cobwebs out of his brain. He felt around and stumbled out of bed, tripping over a cord and crashing to the floor. "Damn it," he whispered as he quicksilvered his eyes to see in a clearer spectrum. He moved towards the window and looked out. "What the hell?" he whispered.

"What?" asked Claire.

"Golda's down there," said Darien. He cupped his hands over his mouth and started shouting to his partner. "Hobbes, Hobbes, what the hell are you doing down there?" When he didn't get a reply, he shook his head in frustration and started for the door. "I'm going down there," he said. He stopped short when he heard the stomping of harsh footsteps coming down the hall. "Aw crap," he yelled as he quickly ran towards the bed and felt for Claire. He instantly let the quicksilver flow from his body onto hers, effectively quicksilvering both of them. "Be quiet," he warned her.

The sound of the door crashing down startled the hell out of both of them. "Drop the quicksilver, Fawkes. We got thermals," yelled a man with thick goggles and a nasty looking gun in his hand.

Darien instantly threw himself at the man, trying desperately to protect Claire. He was rewarded with a sharp blow across the face from the man's gun. 

"No! Help! Please help!" shouted a still invisible Claire from the bed. 

"Nice try, Fawkes," said the man.

The quicksilver flaked off Darien as he hit the floor harshly with a muffled whimper. Claire let it flake off of her as well, realizing being invisible wasn't doing either of them any good. Darien lay on the floor, holding his bleeding head, looking towards the blurry outline of Claire in the bed. "Please don't hurt her!" he shouted at the man standing over him.

"Believe me, we have no intention," said the man as he pulled out a small tube and sprayed Darien in the face. Darien slumped to the ground, completely unconscious.

"No!" cried Claire as she struggled to get out of bed. "What the hell are you doing?" she shouted furiously, tears starting to work their way down her face.

"Time for a little nap," said another man as he stepped towards Claire and sprayed her with the same solution. Claire held her breath, trying desperately not to breathe in the substance, but she could tell the resistance was futile. Through eyes that were slowing closing, she saw the men pick up the limp, unconscious form of Darien and drag him roughly out of the apartment. After that, all she saw was the pitch blackness of unconsciousness.

TBC


	4. Part 3

DS #9 A Life for a Life (3/?)

By Carol M.

See prologue for details.

This part and the rest of this story contain vague references to the Sept 11th attacks. No offense intended with the content. Next part probably out by Wed at the latest. Once Christmas is done, I will start posting everyday again. Enjoy this part, kiddies and have a happy holiday!

Bobby regained consciousness with the realization that something was wrong, very wrong. When he had to pry his head from Golda's steering wheel, he knew that things had definitely taken a turn for the worse.

"Agent Hobbes, are you all right?" came a voice from the driver's side window. He looked up to see the blurry form of Agent Parker leaning through the window, trying to discern if Bobby was still in the land of the living.

Bobby wiped his eyes and then nodded. He glanced over at the seat next to him and saw Alex slowly stirring from her own drug-induced slumber. "What happened?" she mumbled as she struggled to open her eyes.

A terrifying thought went through Bobby's mind at that moment. He quickly opened the door, smashing into Agent Parker in the process, and took off running towards Darien's apartment building.

As he ran through the foyer and up the stairs, a thousand worries flashed through his mind. Was Darien safe? Was he hurt? Was Claire all right? And most terrifying of all, were either of them dead?

His body broke out into a cold sweat as he made his way up the final flight of stairs to Darien's apartment. He eyed the door, not sure if he really wanted to go through it and see what horrors might be waiting for him on the other side. In the end, loyalty and love for his two best friends made him cautiously enter the apartment, his gun drawn and his feet working in quiet careful footsteps. It was pitch black in the small loft and Bobby had trouble determining if there was anything to be seen in the apartment.

He pulled a small pen light from his pocket and shined it around the room, waiting to see bloodstains and body parts strewn across the cheap shag carpet that seemed so fitting for his thrift-loving partner. "Fawkes? Claire? Anybody in here?" he yelled, wanting an answer so bad he could taste it.

He heard a small whimper in response and the sound nearly made him pass out in relief. "Claire?" he asked in a voice that suspiciously sounded like it was only seconds away from becoming a sob.

His flashlight moved to the bed and his breath hitched in his throat when he saw the ample rise of a woman's stomach. "Claire!" he yelled as he ran to the bed.

He shined the light in her eyes and realized that she was flinching away from it. "Claire, Claire," said Bobby as he checked her pulse and then tenderly rubbed his hand through her hair.

"Bobby?" she said a few seconds later as her eyes worked their way open into tiny slits.

"Yeah, Claire it's me," he said softly. "Are you okay?"

She closed her eyes, grimacing for a second and then opened them back up. "I'm okay, I think they gassed me with…" Realization hit her face and she sat up so fast Bobby would never actually be able to recall the movement. "Darien, they got Darien," she said as she put a hand to her face and her eyes started to sparkle with tears. "They…they just took him. One minute everything was fine and the next all the lights were out and men with guns were coming in. Oh god, Bobby, they took Darien, they took him!" shouted Claire in a hysterical tone.

Bobby pulled her into a tight embrace, thankful that at least she was still there. "Shhh, Claire, it's okay, it's okay, we'll find him, we'll find him, don't worry."

Claire's sniffles started to die down against Bobby's chest. "Thanks, Bobby," she murmured softly.

At that moment, Alex burst through the door. "Is everyone okay?" she asked eagerly.

"They got Fawkes," said Bobby grimly.

"Oh no," said Alex in a defeated tone. "McClellan."

"McClellan?" asked Claire curiously as she wiped at her tears. 

"It's a long story. Right now, we need to get you to the Agency," said Bobby as he helped her out of bed.

Claire gave him a silent nod and let him lead her out of the apartment with Alex in tow.

**

Darien fought himself awake with a feeling of absolute horror in his stomach. His eyes opened wide in a panic as he realized he was in some sort of sterile looking room with white walls, white floors, white ceilings and a white bed. A white bed that he was strapped into with white restraints. The only thing that didn't quite match the room was Darien himself, who was dressed in his illustrated pajama top and blue pajama pants.

His first instinct was to quicksilver the restraints, which he wasted no time in doing. What he wasn't counting on was the violent shock of electricity that ran through his body as the first bead of quicksilver hit the material. He screamed in surprise and lay back against his bed, pain running through his whole body.

"I wouldn't do that again if I was you," offered a voice that seemed to be coming from the ceiling.

"Yeah well, you're not giving me many options here," panted Darien in a shaky voice.

A steel door opened and a tall, older man walked in, giving Darien a wide smile. Darien brought his head up to take a closer look at the man, giving him a curious look. "You're that guy," said Darien in confusion.

"That guy?" asked Royce, slightly amused.

"That guy in the Official's office," said Darien as he lay his head back down on the bed. "I saw you this afternoon," he breathed.

"Oh yes, I am that guy. Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Royce McClellan, and I am your temporary boss," he said as he stepped closer to the bed and stood over Darien.

"Well as much as I hate to admit it, I prefer my old boss. At least he didn't keep me strapped to a bed. Well…not often anyway," said Darien sarcastically.

"How interesting," said Royce in bored tone. "I know about your little gift, son."

"Oh and what gift would that be? My ability to block out any and all bureau speak?" said Darien.

"Oh son, you can try to get away from this, but you will fail miserably. Your boss made sure of that," he said.

"What the hell does the Official have to do with this?" Darien gave a small start of realization. "Wait a minute, did you make some kind of deal with him?" asked Darien, flashing his trademark puppy dog eyes.

"I wish I had. But unfortunately your boss does not see that big picture like I do, so he refused. That left me little choice but to take matters into my own hands," said Royce.

"So you kidnapped me," said Darien.

"Well, I wouldn't call it kidnapping, I would call it a temporary sabbatical from the outside world," said Royce with a pleasant smile.

"What do you want?" asked Darien in a cold tone.

"You'll find out soon enough. For now, I'll let you get used to your accommodations," said Royce as he stuck his hands in his pockets and headed for the door.

"You won't get away with this, man! They'll find me, you can bet your entire prescription of Viagra on that!" shouted Darien.

"Doubtful," said Royce with a smirk as he walked out of the room.

Darien struggled wildly against the restraints in frustration, but realized it was useless. Instead he retreated deep into his mind, using biofeedback to try and calm himself down.

**

"I want to know what the hell is going on!" yelled Bobby as he bashed through the door to the Official's office, Claire entering right behind him. "Who took Fawkes and why?"

"Don't you dare speak to me like that, Bobby! I'm your superior and you will treat me with respect!" yelled the Official in a venomous tone.

Claire sat down in a chair and gave the Official a heart-wrenching glance. "What did they do with my husband?"

The Official sighed and closed his eyes for a second, trying unsuccessfully to convince himself that this was all a nightmare. When he opened his eyes and saw his co-workers staring back expectantly at him, he knew that this was really happening. "Royce McClellan."

"Yeah, we know that already. What's he doing with Fawkes?" asked Bobby with anger as he stepped closer to the desk.

"Who's Royce McClellan?" asked Claire softly.

"Royce McClellan was my partner. First partner I ever had actually. I was young and green, and he showed me the ropes," said the Official.

"Yeah well by the way you reacted when he came in this afternoon, I would say ropes aren't the only thing he showed you," said Bobby.

"You're right," said the Official in a slightly shaky voice. "I met Royce the first day I started working at the CIA. Royce and I went to meet one of his informants who was a little too jumpy for my taste. I pulled my gun, but the guy grabbed me instead and put a gun to my head, ready to kill to me. Royce blew him away and saved my life. I owed him," said the Official.

"So what favor did this great partner want from you, chief?" asked Bobby.

"As you know, Royce is the head of a small and ruthless sect of the CIA that takes care of domestic terrorist problems. Ever since the attacks, Royce has been under a tremendous amount of pressure to stop terrorists in their tracks. He came to me to ask if he could borrow Darien for a little while," said the Official.

"What do he want him for?" asked Bobby.

The Official gave a weary sigh. "He wanted Darien to assassinate several targets that have been identified as threats to the safety of the United States," said the Official.

"No, no, no! Darien wouldn't do that!" cried Claire. "He couldn't hurt a fly."

"The Darien we know and love wouldn't do it, but a QSM Darien would have no qualms," replied the Official. "Royce knows everything about Darien, including the invisibility and the quicksilver madness."

"So this Royce guy is going to use Darien against himself, is that what you're saying?" asked Bobby angrily. "How could you let that happen to him, sir? Fawkes is our friend and our co-worker. Why would you put him through this?"

The Official slammed a hand against his desk. "I didn't! Why do you think I wanted him watched, huh? I never dreamed Royce would make a move so soon."

"We cannot let this happen to Darien," said Claire in a scared tone. "Look, putting all personal relationships aside, this could destroy Darien. What if he actually kills someone or even comes close? It will haunt him for the rest of his life, possibly even cause a permanent state of depression or psychosis. Darien is not the type of person that can handle killing someone, even if it's for the greater good of the country."

Bobby nodded in agreement. "Keep's right, chief. You and I both know it takes a special breed of man to take out another person in cold blood for the good of one's nation. Now QSM Darien might be that guy, but our beloved Fawkesy isn't. This will kill him and you know it."

"One small problem, Bobby," said the Official grimly. "There's nothing I can do to stop this."

"Don't give me that crap, chief! You got connections high up, you can get him out of this!" said Bobby with desperation.

"I wish I could, but I can't. Royce is a close personal friend of the president and holds more power than even I do. He's untouchable and so is his organization. Besides which, the location of his Agency is code ultra-violet top secret. I, nor anyone else at this Agency, has access that high," said the Official.

"So you're just gonna let him sit, let him rot? Is that what your saying here, chief?" asked Bobby incredulously.

"I don't have much of a choice, Bobby," said the Official remorsefully.

Bobby took his badge out his jacket and threw it on the Official's desk. "I quit. I'll find Fawkes on my own," he said. He gave Claire a reassuring look and then walked out of the office, slamming the door harshly behind him.

TBC


	5. Part 4

DS #9 A Life for a Life (4/?)

By Carol M.

See prologue for details. On with the tale…

After three days of imprisonment in the stagnant room of white, Darien had decided one thing: he was getting the hell out of there one way or another. It had been three days of torture and hell and pain and misery. And they hadn't even laid a finger on him. Yep, they had pretty much left Darien to his own whims and his own mind, which was never a good thing. He didn't know what they wanted with him, and that torture of not knowing was more agonizing then any type of physical harm that the people of this place could ever bestow on him.

Since he was unable to move around much, he had spent the time staring at his tattoo, watching as the colors slowly turned to a flaming red. He wondered what would happen to him when the snake was full. He had a feeling these people knew all about his little red-eyed evil twin and something about that was very unsettling.

Despite the ominous undertones Darien could feel in the air, he had been treated quite well the last couple of days. They had fed him, bathed him and even given him some new clothes. Hell, all the people had actually been pretty nice to him. If it wasn't for the fact that he was strapped to a bed that shocked him every time he tried to quicksilver, he would have thought he was in some kind of spa resort. Not that he was crazy about having someone bathe him, unless of course it was Claire.

Despite the delicate treatment, he knew something was definitely up. He could see it in all of their eyes. They were watching him, judging him, studying him, waiting to see what he would do. Or maybe they were waiting to see if he would do what they wanted him to do. Either way, Darien decided he had had enough. He was getting out of here, even if it hurt like hell.

There had to be cameras, he knew that much. Probably bugs as well. Hell, the sterile white wall was probably a two-way mirror. He didn't care. He wanted out. Now all he had to do was wait for the perfect opportunity.

**

Claire stared out the window of her apartment, eyeing the black vans parked oh so obviously across the street from the building. Protection for her and her unborn, compliments of the Official. 

She looked back at the computer screen of her computer workstation and continued to search for any information concerning Royce McClellan and his bloody little agency. But so far there had been nothing, which produced an ache in her heart that she feared might never go away.

She picked up a computer printout that listed all of Royce's previous jobs and positions, concluding that it was a worthless piece of junk. "Damn it!" she screamed as she tore up the paper and threw it all over the floor.

It was at that moment that she heard a soft knock at the door. "Claire, it's Bobby," she heard from the hallway.

"Oh thank god!" said Claire as she carefully got on her feet and went to the door. She opened it and let Bobby through. He instantly wrapped his arms around her and gave her a tight squeeze. Once they broke from the hug, Bobby's eyes drifted around the room.

"How you holding up, Keep?" he asked with concern as he eyed the torn paper on the floor.

"Well, I've been better," she said with a sad smile.

"Yeah," said Bobby, looking down at the ground. "I've been following up leads from Hobbesnet the last few days and I got nothing. This Royce guy is one hard mother to track down," said Bobby.

Claire nodded. "Thanks for trying, Bobby," she said softly.

"Anything for you and Fawkesy, my dear. Someone's got to save my partner's skinny punk ass," said Bobby.

Claire gave him a real smile this time. "Darien's lucky to have a friend like you."

"Lucky nothing, I'm lucky to have him. I love the guy," said Bobby with a distant smile. He shook his head and then glanced down at Claire's midsection. "How's the kid doing?" he asked.

Claire patted her stomach softly. "Fine, just fine. Ready to come out and see the world."

"I'll bet," said Bobby. "Fawkes is going to make a great father. You should see him talk about it Claire, he's so excited." His face turned serious and he stared at her intently. "I'm going to find him Claire. I'm going to bring him back to you."

Claire nodded. "I know you will." She looked over at the kitchen and then looked back at Bobby. "You want to stay for a little dinner?" she asked.

Bobby nodded. "Yeah, that's sounds good Keep. Then maybe I'll help you run some searches on your work horse computer over there," he said, nodding towards the workstation.

"Sounds like a plan," said Claire as she shuffled towards the kitchen.

**

The Official stared at the heap of paperwork that had been building on his desk for the past couple of days. None of it had been touched. Every time he tried to work, thoughts of Darien plagued his mind. He felt guilty as hell, but there wasn't anything he could do about it, or so he kept telling himself.

He sighed and forcefully pushed all thoughts of the kid aside and picked up the first piece of paper on top of the pile. It turned out to be a validated parking form for Bobby. The Official ripped it to shreds and threw it in the wastebasket next to his desk. "Guess he won't be needing that anymore," said the Official sadly. "Lost him too," he said to himself, shaking his head.

He reached back into the pile and picked up the next form, which turned out to be a voucher detailing a raise he had decided to give Darien. He threw the form across his desk in disgust and crossed his arms firmly against his chest, sighing in frustration. A knock on the door didn't improve his mood. "What?" he shouted in anger.

The door opened and Alex stepped through, giving him a semi-irritated look.

"Are you going to quit too, Monroe?" asked the Official.

"No, I came to request some time off," said Alex.

"Time off?" asked the Official. "This wouldn't involve an invisible man and his bald partner, would it?"

"What I do with my time off is my business, sir," replied Alex.

"Yes, yes," grumbled the Official. He looked up at her and gave her a serious stare. "Can you find him with your connections?"

"Possibly, sir, but not without your help," replied Alex.

"I see," said the Official. "Well I'm sorry, but I can't help you."

Alex started towards his desk in a huff. "And why not? I'll admit, Fawkes and I aren't the closest of friends, but that doesn't mean he deserves to be held captive like this. He saved all of our lives, sir. I think that counts for something."

The Official thought back to all those months ago when Jason Sullivan had held them all captive in the Keep. Darien had come through that day for not only him, but Alex, Eberts and Claire as well. Still, there wasn't anything he could do, didn't they understand that? "No, it doesn't," replied the Official curtly. "You've got the week off, Monroe. Make it count."

Alex rolled her eyes for a moment and then nodded. "Thank you, sir," she quipped. And with that, she turned around and strutted out of the office.

The Official reached for another paper and then slammed it on his desk so hard, half the pile fell on the floor. He started to pick up the fallen papers, but after a moment's deep thought, threw them all back down on the floor. He had made up his mind.

He reached for his phone and dialed. "Eberts, I want everything you can find concerning Royce McClellan and his operation," he said. He slammed down the phone and took a deep breath. Time to repay his old partner.

**

This was it; this was the moment Darien had been waiting for. He could hear the door of his cell being opened from the outside. He was finally going to get the hell out of here and escape whatever terrors these bastards had in mind for him.

The door swung open and Darien quicksilvered his entire body, which sent pulse after pulse of electricity and pain through his body. It did the trick though and within seconds his binds were broken.

He leapt towards the intruder on pure adrenaline, which enabled him to escape the pain from the shocks. The surprised worker put his hands over his face to protect himself against something he couldn't see and found himself landing heavily on the floor.

Darien leaped to the door and ran outside, almost tasting his freedom. He made it all of five feet down the hall when he felt a searing pain across his forehead. It knocked the quicksilver off of him, but it did not stop his determined descent down the hall. That was when the second blow came, this one to his ribs. The blow was sharp and precise, knocking the wind out of him and effectively cracking the bone. Darien groaned as the pain radiated throughout his entire chest.

There was one final blow, a quick and perfectly placed hit to the groin, so hard, he doubted he would ever be able to impregnate Claire again. The pain was blinding and excruciating. It spread from his groin into his stomach, and he had to fight hard not to throw up. It made him dizzy and he was forced to down to the floor, laying his head against the cold linoleum to calm his stomach. 

He was pulled up roughly by the hair and made to stare into the hated face of Royce. "Nice try, Fawkes. I'm extremely impressed," he said.

Darien wheezed and put an arm across his aching chest and stomach. "Screw you, man," he said as he hocked the biggest loogy he could and spit it in Royce's face.

"Cute," said Royce as he casually took a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped the mess from his face. Then he pulled out a short black club and swung it with calculated force against Darien's injured rib. There was an audible crunch and Darien knew that the cracked rib was now broken. He fell to the floor in the fetal position, unable to catch his breath.

"Put him back in his room," said Royce to several men that had come down the hall to see what all the commotion was about.

Darien was picked up by unseen hands and thrown back into his room. He lay on the ground in a heap, wanting nothing more then to go lay in the bed only a few feet away. With a determined effort, he crawled towards the bed, leaving a trail of tiny blood droplets along the pristine whiteness of the floor.

When he finally reached the bed, he crawled in and pulled the blankets over himself, wanting nothing more than to pass out and wake up in the Keep in the counteragent chair. But he was sure that wasn't happening anytime soon.

Royce observed all of this through the white wall that was indeed a two-way mirror. He smiled and subconsciously patted himself on the back. He had made a good choice with this ex-con turned conniving invisible man. It would only be two more days before his new weapon could be tested. He was sure his superiors would be pleased with the results.

TBC


	6. Part 5

DS #9 A Life for a Life (5/?)

By Carol M.

See prologue for details.

Be warned, angst a comin…Enjoy!

Darien awoke sometime later to feel something pressing hard against his injured rib. He yelped and looked up at the blurry blonde figure that was causing the pain. "Claire?" he said hopefully.

"Who?" said the blurry figure.

Darien blinked his eyes several times, and the cobwebs started to clear. He looked up at the figure and realized it was an older woman in her early forties. "What are you doing?" he asked fearfully as he pulled away from her.

"They just sent me in here to patch you up," she answered dryly. She produced some sort of wipe from a bag lying on the bed and rubbed it against the injury to Darien's forehead. It stung like crazy and Darien winced. "I wouldn't suggest trying to escape again. Things will only get worse."

"Thanks for the tip," said Darien. "So what the hell am I doing here anyway?"

"That's not for me to say, Mr. Fawkes," said the woman.

"What's your name?" asked Darien.

"I'm not at liberty to say," she said as she placed a bandage across his forehead. "Take it easy for a few hours. Try and get some sleep."

"What do they want?" Darien asked again.

The woman shook her head. "You'll find out soon enough," she said as she stood up and observed the sad, scared eyes of the man before her. "It was nice to meet you Mr. Fawkes," she said as she started for the door.

Darien nodded his head slowly and watched her walk out the door. He shut his eyes and was about to drift back asleep when he felt a familiar stabbing pain in the back of his head. "Aw crap," he said out loud. He carefully got out of bed and walked to one of the walls, pounding on it hard. "I know someone's out there!" he yelled. "I need a damn shot!" he cried.

But no one answered him. He sighed in anger and frustration and sat back down on the bed. He checked the tattoo and saw that he was two segments away from the madness. He closed his eyes and concentrated as hard as he could, trying to push the demon as far back into his brain as possible.

**

"Okay, Bill Benhill, nothing. Pete McNeal, nothing. Rob Willis, nothing. Nothing, nothing, nothing," said Alex in frustration from her position at Claire's computer in Claire and Darien's apartment. "I contacted every friend and snitch I know, and I've got nothing," she said.

Bobby walked over and sat on the desk. "Hobbesnet didn't get squat either. It's like this guy doesn't exist."

"Claire, what about the D. o. D.? You have any contacts from there?" asked Alex.

Claire shook her head from her position on the bed. "I'll already tried them. No one knew anything about Royce McClellan or his super spy organization."

"Of course they didn't. No one's willing to risk their ass and give up a little intel. This guy is too powerful and too connected. He's got everybody running scared," said Bobby in irritation.

"Maybe we're going about this the wrong way. Alex, you've got connections in the White House, right?" asked Claire as she gave Alex a hopeful look.

"Um, Claire, George W. isn't exactly in my Rolodex," responded Alex.

"Right," said Claire. She took a deep breath and wiped at her eyes. 

"Why don't you get some rest, Keep.," said Bobby. "Let me and Monroe handle this."

"I can't," said Claire as she looked out the window with a distant stare. "I can't sleep knowing Darien's out there somewhere," she said, a few tears glimmering in her eyes. She wiped them away and looked back at Bobby and Alex. "What's next guys?"

A knock on the door interrupted all of their thoughts. Bobby drew his gun and cautiously stepped towards the door, looking out the peephole. "Who's there? Identify yourself!" he yelled.

"It's Eberts, Robert," said a voice coming from the hallway.

"Well how do I know it's really you and not just someone pretending to be you?" asked Bobby.

Alex rolled her eyes and stood up, walking to the door. "How much did the Agency spend last year in postage?" she yelled through the door.

"For U.S. or international mail?" said the voice from behind the door.

Alex smiled and opened the door despite Bobby's protest. Eberts balked when he saw Bobby's gun aimed at his face. He dropped a box of files and put his hands up. "It's me, Robert."

"Okay, okay," said Bobby as he put his gun back in the holster. He looked at the box on the floor curiously and started rummaging through it. "I didn't know you made house calls, Ebes. What's all this crap?"

"The Official's personal files on Royce McClellan," said Eberts.

"Are you serious? Is this some kind of trick the fatman put you up to?" asked Bobby.

"The Official was the one to find all of these files," said Eberts. "He wants to help."

"Well I'll be damned, the fat bastard isn't so much of a bastard after all," said Bobby as he picked up the box and carried it to the bed. He looked back at Eberts. "You want to stay, Eberts?" he asked.

Eberts smiled and shook his head. "No, I have to get back. But good luck. If you need any help…" he said trailing off.

"Thank you, Albert," said Claire from the bed.

"You're welcome, Doctor. I'll see myself out," said Eberts as he exchanged a small smile with Alex and then walked out the door.

Alex walked to the bed and started rummaging through the files, sorting out piles for each of them to go through. "Maybe we'll finally have some luck," she said.

"It's about time," added Bobby as he eagerly started looking through the pile at his lap.

**

"I'm gonna kill you, you bastards!" screamed Darien at the top of his lungs. He had been fighting the madness for a day, the headaches getting worse and worse by the hour. His eyes were currently dotted with tiny veins of red. He was about to lose control, but he was going to try to stay sane for as long as possible. "Give me my shot!" he yelled.

"You'll get your shot, Mr. Fawkes," said a voice from above.

"I need it now, man. Now!" screamed Darien. An agonizing pain suddenly ripped through his skull and Darien was on the floor, moaning and holding his aching head. "Please!" he begged with tears falling down his cheeks.

One final pain sliced through his head, so bad he nearly blacked out. When he was finally able to breathe again, Darien was gone, replaced by his evil twin. 

"That's more like it," said the voice on the speaker.

"What do you want?" asked Darien calmly.

There was no answer.

"Hello? I know you are up there! Answer me!" yelled Darien.

The door to his cell suddenly opened and Darien jumped back in surprise as he saw Royce enter the room. Once he got over the shock, he realized that a small dart was sticking out of his chest. "What the hell?" he said as he pulled out the dart. "What are you…" Darien didn't get to finish as he fell forward to the floor.

Royce motioned outside to the waiting guards. "Take him to the car. Make sure you have all the stuff," he said as he watched the men pick up Darien and drag him out of his cell.

**

When Darien awoke, he was in a car, surrounded by government dicks. He also realized with joy, that he didn't really care. "What's this?" he asked as he glanced at the man next to him.

"Your assignment," said the man as he handed Darien an envelope, trying to ignore the freakish silver eyes staring back at him.

Darien opened the envelope and was greeted with a picture of a distinct looking man who was in his late fifties. The man sitting next to him handed him a silver gun. "Take this, turn invisible, and shoot him point blank in the chest."

"When I'm done, can I kill you too?" asked Darien with a smile of ecstasy.

The man pushed Darien out of the car and pointed at a large office building. "Third floor, room 302," said the man.

"What if I run?" asked Darien.

"That's what this is for, Mr. Fawkes," said the man as he held up a small tracking device. "If that isn't enough incentive, there are other things we can do to assure your return," said the man.

Darien smiled. "That's not neccesary," he said as he broke out into a fast jog towards the building. He reached the foyer and instantly coated himself with quicksilver. He stepped towards the elevator and when it opened, he shoved the lone occupant out roughly to the ground. He pressed the third floor button and whistled as it started to rise, his mind a happy blank. When the door opened, he stepped out and looked around for room 302.

He found it after several wrong turns. He opened the door and stepped into the room, seeing the man from the picture sitting at a desk. The man gave a strange glance at the door that had seemingly opened by itself. "Nancy, close…" but the man never finished. A single gunshot rang out, followed by screams from the steno pool. Darien smiled to himself as he saw the blood leaking out of the body of the man he had just shot. He quickly and calmly made his way out of the office building and stepped back into the car waiting for him.

He shed the quicksilver and handed the gun back to the man he had been sitting next to earlier. "All done, what's next?" asked Darien. "You maybe?" he asked as he reached his hands out and started strangling the government bureaucrat. A sharp sting in his neck caused his world to turn blurry and he promptly passed out, sagging against the man he had just tried to kill.

The man looked up at the driver and nodded. "Take us back," he said in a slightly shaky voice as he rubbed his sore neck.

**

When Darien awoke next, he was once again lying in his cell. The blurry blonde older woman pierced his arm with a needle and his body went into sharp convulsions as pain worked its way from his head down to the rest of his body. He blacked out for several minutes and woke up alone feeling weak and nauseated.

He heard a clapping sound come from up above. "Congratulations, Mr. Fawkes, that went better than expected," said Royce.

"What are you…oh my god," said Darien as bloody images slowly started to seep into his mind. He could see it; he could remember every single detail right down to the ugly blue tie the man had worn. The man who had been standing in front of him alive one minute and dead on the floor the next "Oh god!" screamed Darien as the nauseous feeling built to a breaking point and caused him to throw up all over himself and the bed. Darien scooted away from the mess and lay down on the floor. "No, no, no," he sobbed as he curled into the fetal position and whimpered.

"Now, now, Mr. Fawkes, you did your country a wonderful service today," said Royce.

Darien only shook his head and continued to sob, unable to stop the cold-blooded emptiness that was slowly filling his heart. "I'm sorry, Claire," he whimpered.

TBC


	7. Part 6

DS #9 A Life for a Life (6/?)

By Carol M.

See prologue for details.

Spoilers: Father Figure in this part

Only six days til new episodes! I'm waiting both in excitement and dread. Here's hoping UPN does indeed pick up I-man. Anyway, enjoy the story folks. Oh yeah, now would be a good time to take out some of that extra rope!

Bobby sighed as he looked at the long list of names produced from the files the Official had given him. The list of about 30 names had been split between him and Alex, leaving them each 15 government mooks to check out. He was at number eight on his list and so far, had come up with nothing. He drove Golda swiftly through San Diego traffic towards the address of the next name on the list. 

He wiped at his tired eyes as he drove, replaying the events of the last five days in his mind. He had been sitting up with Claire, watching newscast after newscast about the supposed invisible murder of Patrick Reeves, a man suspected of having terrorist ties. He damned Royce McClellan for turning his partner into a killer. His stomach was in knots thinking about how Darien must be taking all of this. He shook the thought from his head and continued to drive, determined to get his partner out of this mess before he was forced to kill someone else.

A half-hour later, Bobby reached his destination. He whistled in appreciation as he pulled up to the house and saw the large, colonial mansion that rested on the property. "Nice," he whispered to himself as he got out of Golda and headed up the long private driveway of the secluded mansion. He got to the door and promptly rang the doorbell.

Several seconds later, the door opened and the face an older woman dressed in a maid's uniform greeted him. "Yes?" she asked.

Bobby pulled out his badge and flashed it at her. "Bobby Hobbes, BWM. I need to have a word with Bradley Hall," he said.

"What's this about?" asked the maid.

"It's a federal matter," responded Bobby.

The maid nodded and let Bobby through the door into the foyer. "Hold on, let me go find him," she said.

Bobby nodded and looked around the large mansion. Pictures lined the front halls of the foyer and he eyed one picture of particular interest. It seemed to be a picture of Royce McClellan, the Official and of a fair-haired Bradley Hall, he guessed. Maybe he was finally on to something.

"Mr. Hobbes, right this way," said the maid as she stepped back in the room. She showed him down a flight of stairs, which led to a small private office. She pointed to a chair sitting across from a desk. Bobby stepped into the room and sat in the chair, admiring the many presidential awards covering the walls. Seconds later, the man Bobby had seen in picture walked into the room and sat down at the desk. "Mr. Hobbes?" he asked. "How can I help you?"

Bobby flashed his badge once again. "Mr. Hall, I'm investigating the disappearance of one of BWM's agents, Darien Fawkes. He was taken approximately two weeks ago."

Bradley gave him a curious stare. "And what I can I do to help?"

"We suspect that Royce McClellan might have had something to do with the disappearance. You know who I'm talking about, right?" asked Bobby.

"Yes, Royce was my partner for nearly 10 years," said Bradley.

"Yeah well, Fawkes has been my partner for three years and I would kind of like to get him back. Look, as a fellow partner, if you have any information, it would be a great help. We just want him back, we don't want to cause any problems," said Bobby, leaning forward in his chair. "How about a little partner to partner support, my friend?"

"I'm sorry, Mr. Hobbes, but I don't have any information. What Royce does is his business, and he likes to keep things very private," said Hall. 

Bobby nodded in disappointment. "I see," he said as he stood up from the chair. "Thanks for your time. I'll see myself out."

Bradley nodded. When he heard the front door close, he instantly picked up his phone and dialed. "Royce McClellan, please," he said into the receiver.

**

"We have a small problem," said Royce to one of his men as he observed Darien through the two-way mirror. Darien was laying in the fetal position in the middle of his room and had been that way for the last five days. He refused to eat and he refused to sleep, he just lay there in his own little world.

"What's the problem?" asked the man.

"There's been an unexpected bump in the road. Apparently, the Agency isn't as stupid as I had hoped. I think we're going to have to move this week's target back for a little while," said Royce as he eyed Darien.

"Is their a new target, sir or are we just staying out of the spot light until things calm down?" asked the man.

"Oh, there's a new target all right," said Royce with a devilish gleam. "Prepare the necessary equipment. I want to do this tonight."

The man nodded. "Yes, sir," he said as he walked out of the observation room.

**

Inside the cell, Darien was learning what life must be like for his father. Only Darien wasn't handling it quite as well as he figured his father did. He felt empty inside, dead to the world. It didn't matter that the man he had killed had been a terrorist whom had had a hand in killing thousands of people himself. In the end, the man was still a person and Darien couldn't close his eyes without seeing the man's face or the blood that had leaked from his body.

He glanced at his tattoo and his heart started to thump violently in his chest when he saw he was only three segments away from the madness. At this rate, he'd be psychotic by the evening. The thought caused his stomach to clench into knots, cramping painfully. He dry heaved several times, but since there had been no food the last few days, nothing would come up.

After several agonizing minutes, the dry heaves passed and Darien once again was able to relax. His heart felt like it was broken. He was sure Bobby would have found him by now. Maybe they weren't even looking for him. The thought was too painful to give serious consideration to. He rubbed his hands across his arms and closed his eyes, trying to ignore the wash of red that invaded his eyesight. He had never felt more alone in his entire life.

**

"I got him, Claire, I got him," said Bobby excitedly as he entered the door of her apartment. His face fell when he saw she had been crying. "What's wrong?" he asked softly as he stepped towards her position on the bed.

Claire looked up at him and flashed a small smile. "I went to the doctor today."

"What did he say, what did he say?" asked Bobby impatiently.

"I made him tell me the sex of the baby. Do you think Darien will be mad?" she asked.

"Claire, Darien's going to be so happy to see you he won't even care. So what is it, what are you going to have?" he asked with anticipation.

"A little girl," she said softly.

"Awww, Claire," said Bobby as he gave Claire's stomach a light pat. "A little chick Fawkesy. God, she's going to be gorgeous."

Claire nodded. "If she's half as pretty as her father then I think were going to have a little supermodel running around the house," she said.

"You got that right, my dear," he said. He gazed up at her intently. "I got something. It might help us find, Fawkes."

"What is it?" asked Claire.

"Royce's last partner. I visited him today, right. He says he's got no idea what Royce is doing. But we he doesn't know, is that Bobby Hobbes is on to him. He knows exactly what's going on, I can just feel it. I got Eberts digging up every piece of dirt we can find on this guy. Me and Monroe are gonna go back there, and hammer the truth out of the lousy S.O.B," said Bobby with satisfaction.

"Bobby, I want him back so bad. I can't do this on my own," said Claire with a heavy sigh. "God, he's going to be destroyed. I mean, you know Darien, he's probably wracked with guilt. It's going to be so hard for him to get over this," she said.

"We'll get him through it, Claire, I promise. Fawkes will be good as new when I get done with him," said Bobby.

"Yeah," said Claire. She picked up the baby name book from the nightstand and handed it to Bobby. "Want to help me pick out a name while we wait for Albert to work his magic?"

"It would be a pleasure," said Bobby as he flipped through the pages.

**

"I won't, I won't," screamed Darien at the top his lungs. The madness was building once again and he knew it was only a matter of minutes before they sent for him. "I'll kill myself, man. I'm not doing this again!" he shouted as his head erupted in agony.

Royce opened the door and Darien dived towards him, crashing into Royce with all of his strength. "Let me out, let me out," he screamed as scarlet veins appeared in his eyes. Royce smacked Darien across the face and stabbed him in the neck with a sedative. 

"No," whispered Darien as his eyes closed and his body slumped against Royce. Royce rolled Darien off of him and stood up, wiping off his jacket. A group of men standing behind him eyed the older man curiously. "Taking him to the prepping room," said Royce.

The men picked up Darien and carried him down the hall towards the waiting car. 

Another man stepped to Royce's side. "Who's the target?" he asked.

Royce produced an envelope from his pocket and held out a picture of Bobby Hobbes. "Our tracker has him at this address," said Royce as he handed him both the picture and a piece of paper with the address.

"Very well, sir. We should be ready within the hour," said the man as he walked down the hall to tend to Darien.

Royce smiled and sighed. "This one's for you Charlie. Maybe next time you won't try to screw me over."

**

"All right, what about Sarah?" asked Bobby as he sipped at a mug of hot coffee.

"No, what about Jane?" said Claire.

"Too boring," he said. He flipped through the book once more and stopped when he realized he had found the perfect name. "Katie. Katie Marie Fawkes."

Claire's eyes lit up in a bright smile. "That's perfect, Bobby!"

"Think Fawkes will like it?" he asked.

Claire nodded knowingly. "He love it."

A knock at the door caused them both to look up. "It's probably Monroe," said Bobby as he stood up to get the door. "Monroe, we got to get…Fawkes?" said Bobby as he opened the door and saw his sunglass clad partner looking back.

"Darien?" cried Claire from the bed.

Bobby leaned towards Darien and gave him a large hug. "Fawkes, you okay, buddy, what's going on? Why you got sunglasses on at 10:30 at night?"

Darien pulled away from Bobby and slowly removed the sunglasses to reveal sparkling silver irises. 

"Aw crap, Fawkes," said Bobby as he unconsciously took a few steps back.

"Hello, Robert," said Darien coldly.

Claire was instantly off the bed. "Darien, let us help you. We can get you the counteragent."

Darien started for a second when he saw Claire, and then his body went back to its calm and collected state. "I don't need it."

"Buddy, come on. They're doing this to you. We can help, we're you're friends," said Bobby gently.

"I'm sorry," said Darien as he reached into his jacket and pulled out a gun.

"Darien, no! Don't do this, please," cried Claire.

"Stay the hell back, Claire," yelled Bobby in a harsh tone. Claire backed off into the kitchen. "Okay, Fawkes, I want you to put the gun down, okay. You don't want to hurt me. I know deep down in that brain of yours, you're in there. You know I love you, and I would never hurt you," pleaded Bobby.

"I've got orders. Bad things happen when I don't follow orders," said Darien as he raised the gun with a shaky hand to Bobby's head and left it there for several heart-stopping seconds. "I can't…I can't…." he cried out in an inner struggle with himself.

"Fight it, Fawkes, fight it," said Bobby.

Darien shook his head and for a minute, Bobby thought he could see his partner through the silver eyes. After a few seconds however, Bobby saw all traces of his partner disappear, leaving a heartless monster in front of him. "Sorry it had to end this way, Robert," said Darien as he lowered the gun to Bobby's chest and fired.

Bobby fell violently to the floor with a large thud. Claire began to sob in terror. Darien glanced up at her, a look of horror washing over his face for a brief second. "I'm sorry," he said softly as he quicksilvered his body and disappeared into the hall.

TBC


	8. Part 7

DS #9 A Life for a Life (7/?)

By Carol M.

See prologue for details

Enjoy, kiddies!

"Bobby!" screamed Claire as she ran swiftly to her fallen friend. She knelt down on the floor next to him and began searching for his wound. When her hand came away clean, she frowned in confusion. She pulled at the shirt and jacket he had been wearing and sighed in relief when she saw the distinct Kevlar No. Four lining sewn into his clothes. "Bloody hell," she said in relief as she sagged against his body.

At that instant, Bobby jerked up, nearly knocking Claire in the chin. "Keep," he whispered weakly as he rubbed at his aching chest. "Where's Fawkes?" he asked with concern as he glanced at the door.

"He got away," said Claire absentmindedly. "Are you all right?" she asked with concern as she pulled aside his shirt and jacket and saw a large bruise already forming on his chest.

He nodded and gave her a small grunt.

"How long have you been wearing this lining?" she asked.

"Since I nearly got turned into Swiss Cheese at Arnaud's prison escape a few months ago. Had it sewn into every jacket and shirt I own," he said, struggling to get up.

Claire sighed with relief. "Thank god, Bobby. Darien had to know you would be wearing the lining. Maybe he's not as far gone as we thought."

"Fawkes didn't know," said Bobby.

"What?" asked Claire.

"He didn't know. I didn't want to exactly advertise the fact that I'm scared to death of getting shot again. Wouldn't want Fawkesy thinking I wasn't on top of my game," said Bobby.

"So he doesn't know," said Claire in a heart-breaking tone.

"No," said Bobby softly. "But he wasn't that far gone into the Stage Five madness, if he had been, he probably would have hurt you as well."

"Which means they've probably got the Stage Five counteragent. My god, they're forcing him into the madness and then bringing him back out so he knows exactly what's he's done," said Claire, tears forming in her eyes.

"That way they could control him. There's no way they could deal with Darien if he was in permanent Stage Five madness," said Bobby. "So they make him kill me…"

"As the ultimate way to get to the Official and to Darien as well," Claire finished. "They had to know killing you would destroy him."

"Yeah, they got Fawkes' number all right," said Bobby.

"Bobby you know that Darien would never hurt you. God…I mean I know what it's like when you're on the receiving end of one of Darien's QSM episodes," said Claire, briefly thinking back to the rape. "But, Bobby, he…he…he doesn't mean it. In the end, it will hurt him more than it will ever hurt you. I think that's why I can love him despite all the risks involved. His heart is just too big. He needs someone to love him," said Claire, tears now falling at a rapid pace down her cheeks.

Bobby braced both his arms on Claire's shoulders. "Claire, you don't have to tell me any of this, okay. I know Fawkes. Hell, sometimes I think I know the guy better than you do. He's my friend, probably the only real friend I've ever had."

Claire gave him a hurt look.

"Besides you, of course," added Bobby. "When I find Royce, I'm going to kill him, plain and simple, and when I find Fawkes, I'm going to hammer it into that furry, stubborn head of his that none of this is his fault, that known of us blame him for any of this mess."

Claire nodded, wiping at her face. "Okay," she said. "So what are we going to do?"

"We keep me dead," said Bobby.

"What?" asked Claire in confusion.

"I'm staying dead. We leak out the reports of my untimely death so they get back to Royce. That way Dr. Evil won't see us coming. Then I find Monroe and we give my friend Mr. Hall another visit. Something's telling me that his fancy pants mansion wasn't built with his government pension fund," said Bobby.

"Right, okay," said Claire. "What can I do?"

"You can get on the phone with Eberts and get all the dirt on Hall. Then you just stay here and be careful," said Bobby as he gave her an intense stare. "I'm going to bring Fawkes back, for my sake as well as your own. He's got a little girl to take care of after all. You're going to need him."

Claire smiled and took a deep breath "Be careful," she said as she gave Bobby a small hug.

Bobby winked. "Always," he said as he released her from the hug and walked out the door. 

**

Darien sat in the corner of his bed against the wall, huddled in a tiny ball. His body shook in pain and grief. He rocked himself back and forth, muttering, "Bobby, Bobby, Bobby," over and over again. His eyes, which were once again brown, had an intense look of sorrow and pain swimming through pools of his own tears.

The door to his cell swung open and Royce emerged with a hearty grin on his face. "Nice job, Fawkes. We've just been given confirmation that Robert Hobbes is dead. Congratulations, you're finally one of us."

Darien gave him a tear-filled stare. "I'd rather be dead," he said softly.

"I don't see it that way. You're partner was about to find out our location and shut this little operation down. What we're doing here, Fawkes, is saving lives," said Royce coldly.

Darien gave him a disbelieving stare. " You don't get it, do you? You made me kill my partner and my best friend, you bastard," he said in a harsh tone.

"There's no such thing as a best friend in this business. Friends get you killed," said Royce.

"What about partners?" offered Darien. "Bobby Hobbes taught me that partners do for each other. What the hell did I do for him by killing him?"

"You sacrificed him so others can be saved. It's the price you pay in this line of work Fawkes, get used to it," said Royce.

"It wasn't my choice to be in this line of work. I'm not one of you, and I never will be," screamed Darien, tears flowing down to the collar of his shirt. "You turned me into a monster."

"As I see it Fawkes, you did this all on your own. You were the one who pulled the trigger, not me. It was your choice and you chose to kill. That makes you a killer," said Royce as he stepped towards Darien, looking him straight in the eye.

"No," said Darien firmly as he stared right back at Royce. "I'm not a kill…I wasn't…that's not true!" yelled Darien, his voice badly cracking.

Royce gave him a small, amused smile. "You're nothing, kid. You're a robot who does what he's told, when he's told. Even in the Agency, you were nothing but a tool. Never forget that son. No matter where you are or what you do, as long as you've got that gland in your head, someone's always going to be pulling your strings like a marionette," said Royce matter of factly.

"I'm not just a gland," said Darien. "Even the Official knew that," he said softly.

"He was mistaken," said Royce. He took a glance down the length of Darien's body and then looked him in the eyes again. "Eat. You're losing your strength. I'll have someone bring you some food."

"I'd rather stick hot needles in my eyes," said Darien defiantly.

Royce laughed. "Oh believe me, Mr. Fawkes, that can be arranged," he said in a cold tone. He took one last look at Darien and then let himself out the door of the cell.

Darien curled further into himself and began to sniffle as images of Bobby flooded his mind. Pretty soon, the sniffles turned into full out sobs, so loud and hard they made Darien's throat sore. He cried and cried and cried until he was out of tears. After that, he fell into a light restless sleep that was void of any people or images of which Darien breathed a silent thank you.

**

Bobby drove Golda at record-breaking speeds towards Bradley Hall's house. Alex was hanging on for dear life while trying to talk on her cell phone, try to get the necessary information from Claire that would make their plan work.

"Right, right, okay," said Alex. "Got it, thanks Claire. We'll get him," she said as she hung up the phone. 

"Did you get it? Did you get it?" asked Bobby impatiently.

Alex gave him a large smile. "Oh yeah, we got it. Claire said that Eberts found a tone of dirt on our distinguished government servant. It seems that Bradley Hall has been taking bribes from a vast array of sources including senators, congressman and even a few terrorist organizations. It turns out some of these terrorists have a stake in this whole assassin thing as well."

"What do you mean?" asked Bobby.

"They got Royce getting rid of their competition," said Alex. "After he's done with the government's list of enemies, he's got another list to get through, this one from reclusive terrorists looking to get back in the business."

"All be damned," said Bobby as he pulled up in front of Bradley's house. "So much for saving lives," he said as he got out of the car.

"Exactly," said Alex as she followed Bobby out of the van.

They both pulled out their badges and checked their weapons. Alex gave Bobby a strange look when she saw his badge. "I thought you quit?" she said.

Bobby smirked. "I just so happened to have an extra one lying around the house. Never know when it might come in handy," he said.

Alex rolled her eyes and pounded on the door. "Federal agents, open up," she yelled.

Bradley's maid greeted them. Bobby flashed her a smile and then pushed his way through the door. "We need to talk to Mr. Hall," said Bobby as he led Alex down the staircase.

"You can't go in there, Mr. Hall is not to be disturbed," yelled the maid.

Bobby continued down the stairs and when he reached the office door, he kicked his way through. He found Bradley sitting at his desk with a look of horror on his face. "You're dead," he said in shaky tone. After a moment he recovered his wits and his voice. "You have no authority to be here. I checked up on you. You're not an agent anymore. That badge is a fake!" he yelled as he pointed at the badge.

Alex stepped forward and pulled out her gun, aiming it at Bradley's head. "Yeah, well mine's real. You're going to talk."

"I already told you, I don't know anything," said Bradley through clenched teeth.

"Hmm, that's funny because four hours after I talked to you I got a visit from an assassin and nearly got killed," said Bobby. "We know all about you, my friend. We got files on all the bribes and favors you've done for your fellow government workers as well as some of our country's enemies. You're whole career and fortune is based on a lie."

Bradley shook his head. "No, you're the one who's lying. You don't have any proof!" he yelled.

"Try me," said Bobby.

"What do you want?" asked Bradley.

"You know what I want," said Bobby. "You tell me where Fawkes is right now. If you do, this whole mess stays out of the papers, but if you don't, I'd start thinking how prison stripes would compliment your skin tone."

Bradley put his hands up in surrender. "All right, all right, just take the gun away," he said as he glanced up at Alex.

Alex shook her head and kept it firmly pointed at his head. " I don't think so," she said.

Bradley took a deep breath. "Okay…Royce, he's got this place in Icen Park. It's an abandoned farmhouse that he turned into an underground facility. That's probably where he's got your partner," he said.

"Now that wasn't so hard, was it?" said Bobby. "Don't bother picking up that phone and calling your pal Royce. We've got this place so heavily wired if you breathe the wrong way, were going to know about it."

Bradley nodded. "Fine, fine, all right. I won't say anything."

"You're damn right you won't," said Bobby. He looked up at Alex. "Monroe, shall we?" he said.

Alex put away her gun and nodded, following Bobby back up the staircase and out the door. They were greeted with the sight of about 20 agency cars and vans outside the house.

The Official emerged from one of the cars and stepped to Bobby and Alex.

"What's this?" asked Bobby.

"Back up," said the Official.

"You helping us, chief?" he asked.

The Official looked down at his feet and then looked back up at Bobby. "Yeah. It's something I should have done from the start."

Bobby patted the Official on the shoulder. "Better late, than never, sir," he said with a smile.

The Official reached into his pocket and held out Bobby's badge. "You're going to be needing this," he said.

Bobby reached into his pocket and pulled out the other badge. "Already got one," he said.

The Official shook his head. "Why am I not surprised?" he said with amusement.

"Because you've taught me too well," he said.

The Official nodded. "I have, haven't I?"

"You're good, chief, almost too good," said Bobby.

"Enough sucking up, Bobby," said the Official as he looked towards one of the Agency cars. "Eberts," he yelled. 

Eberts quickly popped his head out of one of the cars. "Yes, sir."

"Go to the doctor's apartment and keep her company. Let her know what's going on," said the Official.

"Yes, sir," said Eberts as he obediently got back in the car.

"What is going on, chief?" asked Bobby.

"We're bringing Fawkes home," said the Official as he started walking towards Golda.

"Whoa, whoa, sir," said Alex as her and Bobby both followed him. "You're coming with us?"

The Official nodded. " I owe both Royce and Fawkes that much."

"Nice," said Bobby as he climbed into the driver's side of the van. The Official got in the passenger's seat while Alex got in the back. "Time to get back one of our own," said Bobby as he peeled Golda out into the road.

TBC


	9. Part 8

DS #9 A Life for a Life (8/?)

By Carol M.

See prologue for details

Happy New Year! As someone said on the BB, let's make 2002 the year of I-man! On with the story…

Bobby pulled Golda into a sandy lot several hundred yards away from the underground lair of Royce McClellan. Several agency vehicles pulled up behind the van, kicking up the sand into a mini storm. Within seconds, 20 agents were loading weapons and preparing to invade the fortress.

Bobby gazed at the Official, who was busying loading a weapon of his own. "Sir, why don't you hang back here with the boys, let Monroe and I handle this," said Bobby.

The Official gave him an amused smile. "Nice try, Hobbes. But I was running missions when you were still in junior high. I can handle myself."

"Okay, if you're sure," said Bobby.

The Official looked off towards the abandoned farmhouse and nodded. "Oh, I'm sure," he said with confidence.

"Okay. We get in there, we find Fawkes and get out. Getting Royce will just be icing on the cake," said Bobby. He looked towards the group of agents standing nearby, all ready to do battle. "You boys wait for our signal."

One of the agents raised his hand. "Um, what's the signal?" he asked.

Bobby smirked. "You'll know it when you see it," he said as he patted at the miniature explosive device in his jacket pocket. He glanced at Monroe who was opening a bottle of spray paint. "You ready?"

"Let's get him back," she said firmly.

"Let's go," said Bobby as he started in a fast jog towards the facility. Alex and the Official followed close behind, their guns drawn and ready to be fired. They reached the edge of the property and Bobby stopped them short. "Cameras," he said as he pointed up tiny cameras camouflaged in some trees.

Alex instantly snaked around the trees and aimed the spray paint at the camera lenses, turning them black as the cool night. "Gone," she said.

Bobby began jogging again, motioning the Official and Alex to follow. The trio made their way towards a door that was armed with two night watchmen, both of whom were reading. "Take them," he said as he ran towards the guards. "Freeze!" he yelled.

The guards looked up in a panic, reaching for their weapons. Alex fired a shot, hitting one of them in the leg. The other guard instantly put his hands up in surrender. Bobby took out his handcuffs and cuffed both of the guards together. "Where's Fawkes?" he asked the injured one.

"Who the hell's Fawkes?" asked the guard.

"Your one man terminator. Where they got him?" he asked as he put pressure on the man's gunshot wound.

"Okay, okay. Level one, northeast corner," he answered.

"That wasn't so hard, was it?" said Bobby as he kicked in the front door. Monroe and the Official followed behind him, covering each other with their guns. The hall seemed to be empty. They carefully made their way down the dimly lit walkway, watching intently for guards and cameras. They were about to turn a corner, when they heard the sound of footsteps coming down the other hall. Bobby reached into his pocket for the explosive. "Be good to papa," he said as he activated the explosive and threw it down the hall. "Cover!" he yelled as he pushed Alex and the Official against the wall.

The other hallway exploded in a gigantic fireball, sending ash and smoke spewing through the air. "Let's go," said Bobby as he got up and ran down the hallway, which was littered with bodies. More guards greeted them from the other side and soon they were engaged in an intense firefight.

The trio returned fire, ducking into small rooms and taking out an impressive amount of guards. Pretty soon, the guards were outnumbered when the agency backup arrived from the entrance.

Bobby stood up from his position and looked at Alex and the Official. "I'm going to find Fawkes. Cover me," he said as he made his way through several of the small rooms towards another hallway.

Alex and the Official returned fire, hoping like hell that Darien was still alive.

**

Darien's lungs heaved and ached as smoke slowly invaded his cell. He could hear gunshots and explosions outside and a small part of him thought that maybe he was finally being saved. The other part of him however, was just trying to breathe. He took in harsh gasps, and his eyes started to burn.

His cell door opened and he looked up at the distinct, horrible face of Royce. He had a gun aimed at his head. "Time to move," he said as he grabbed Darien and dragged him out of the cell.

Darien was too weak to put up a fight and let Royce carelessly half-drag, half-carry him through the halls. The smoke was even thicker in the hallway and Darien started to feel light-headed. 

"Come on, you worthless piece of crap," cried Royce in frustration as he was forced to carry more of Darien's weight.

Darien blearily spied a door ahead. They were just about to go through it when he heard the distinct sound of a gun cocking from behind. "Hold it right there, pal."

Royce turned around, positioning Darien in front of him as a human shield. His face paled as he saw the face and body of Bobby Hobbes standing before him with a gun pointed at his head. "Drop him!" yelled Bobby.

Darien jerked up, seeing Bobby alive and well standing no more than five feet away. It couldn't be him, it just couldn't be him, he thought. I must be delirious, he concluded.

"You're dead," said Royce harshly.

"Oh well, see that's where you're wrong, my friend. As some old guy once said, 'Reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated.' Now let me partner go, you son of a bitch!" shouted Bobby.

Royce tightened his grip on Darien and pushed his gun against Darien's head. "I'll kill him," he said with cold menace. "Drop the gun or your partner's brains are going all over the wall."

Bobby took a deep breath and clenched his jaw. He dropped the gun to the floor and gave Royce a harsh stare. 

"I'll be seeing you soon," said Royce as he began to open the door behind him.

"Not so fast, Royce," said the Official as he came up behind Bobby, his gun aimed at Royce and Darien.

Royce gave him a cool grin. "Well Chuck, this is a surprise. I didn't know you put in appearances anymore," he said as he wrapped his arm in a tight headlock around Darien's neck. Darien gasped, his oxygen completely cut off.

"You lose Royce. Give him back," said the Official.

"You owe me, Charlie, you owe me for your life, pal!" said Royce in anger. He pulled even tighter against Darien's throat, eliciting a choked moan out of him.

"Sorry, partner, but I'm not letting you destroy his life just because you saved mine. This is wrong, Royce. Don't make him pay for my mistakes," said the Official.

Royce laughed. "Yeah, it was a mistake all right. A mistake saving your worthless life. And what thanks do I get?" he yelled in anger.

"Drop him, Royce!" yelled the Official.

"Come get him!" screamed Royce as he pushed the gun firmly against Darien's head and prepared to fire.

"No!" yelled the Official as he fired his gun. The bullet caught Royce right between the eyes, spilling pieces of brain and blood all over Darien. The pair fell to the ground in a crumpled heap.

"Fawkes!" yelled Bobby as he ran to his fallen partner.

Darien lay on the ground, clutching at his neck, gasping and choking for air.

Bobby knelt down next to him and rubbed his back. "Breathe buddy, just breathe, take it easy," he said reassuringly.

Darien looked up at him with a heart-wrenching stare. "You're dead," in said in a choked whisper.

Bobby shook his head. "No kid, I'm not, I'm right here. See," he said he picked up Darien's hand and rubbed it across his face. "I was wearing a lining Fawkes. You didn't kill me."

A look of relief and sorrow washed over Darien's face. He sagged against his partner, still struggling to breathe. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he started murmuring.

Bobby wrapped his arms protectively around his partner, rubbing the back of his neck in a comforting fashion. "Shhh, buddy, it's okay. I'm fine. What did ya think? Ya think you were going to take me out so easily there?" he asked.

Darien wrapped his own arms around Bobby and started to sob like a little child. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he continued to mutter.

"It's okay, it's okay, partner," whispered Bobby in Darien's ear. He looked up at the Official, who was glancing at Darien with a look of horror.

"What did that bastard do to him?" he asked.

"He'll be okay, sir, he just needs to calm down," he said as he continued to hold Darien in a comforting embrace. He glanced over at the dead body of Royce and then his gaze fell back on the Official. "That was pretty great, chief. What you did for Fawkes…

The Official nodded. "Darien shouldn't have to pay for my mistakes," he said.

The sound of footsteps caused both the Official and Bobby to look down the hall. They could make out Alex running towards them through a blur of smoke. "Did you get him?" she yelled as she got closer. When she saw the dead body of Royce McClellan, she gave a small smile of approval. "I guess so. How's Fawkes?" she asked as she eyed the sobbing figure being held protectively by his partner.

"We need to get him out of here," said Bobby as he lifted his partner to his feet. The Official grabbed Darien's left arm, while Bobby took his right. Together, they carefully eased him through the hallways and back out of the facility, both trying to ignore the small sobs that escaped Darien's mouth every time they passed a body on the floor. 

By the time they got him back to the van, Darien was barely conscious. He continued to mumble "I sorry, I sorry," over and over again like a broken record.

"Where are we going to take him?" asked Alex as she helped Bobby and the Official manhandle Darien into the van.

"Let's take him home," said Bobby as he climbed in the back with his partner. He threw the keys at Alex. "Think you can drive, my dear?"

Alex nodded. "Not a problem," she said as she clamored into the driver's seat. 

The Official looked in the back of the van, watching Bobby trying to calm Darien down. He gave a soft sigh. "I'm going to stay here and wrap things up. Tell Claire, anything he needs, he gets."

Bobby nodded. "It'll be okay, sir, I promise."

"Yeah," muttered the Official as he closed the back of the van.

Alex drove off, causing a storm of sand to hit the Officials legs. He didn't care. All he cared about was his most valuable agent. But the gland didn't have anything to do with it.

TBC----um, I need a little help guys. There's probably another 2 parts left of this story and then I'm going to get started on my next one. Here's where I need the help. I've got two ideas in mind, one involving the under-funded five in a natural disaster, fighting for their lives, the other one a mission with Darien, Bobby and Claire that will be in the same tone and canon of the show. Which would you rather read next? A quest for survival fic with an emphasis on friendship and relationships or a lighter Darien/Bobby/Claire fic with lots of action, comedy and shippiness of both the B/C and D/C kind?


	10. Part 9

DS#9 A Life for a Life (9/10)

By Carol M.

Yada yada yada, on with the story…

"Come on, Fawkes, easy does it. I got ya, partner," said Bobby as he struggled to get Darien up the flight of stairs to Darien and Claire's apartment.

"Bobby, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you," mumbled Darien, in a half-asleep trance.

"I know you didn't, D. This isn't your fault," said Bobby as he got Darien up the stairs and to the door of the apartment. He leaned Darien against the wall and pounded on the door. "Keep, open up, I got someone you might want to see here!" yelled Bobby.

The door opened quickly, revealing a very anxious Claire and a frazzled looking Eberts. Claire peeked her head out the door and spotted Darien, who was barely able to stand on his own. "Oh, Darien," she said as she stepped to him and caressed his cheek. She looked back at Bobby and Eberts. "Help me get him into bed," said Claire.

Bobby and Eberts instantly complied and each grabbed Darien's arms. They carefully dragged him into the apartment and placed him gently on the bed. "Eberts, get me my medical bag!" said Claire urgently as she checked Darien over.

"Darien, can you hear me?" she asked as she examined an old bruise on his forehead. 

Darien opened his eyes into tiny slits. "I'm sorry," he said softly.

Bobby stepped next to Claire and looked at his partner with concern. "He's been saying that since we found him; over and over again like a freakin broken record or something."

"Bobby's he's been through a terrible shock," she said as she tried to ignore the awful look of sadness in her husband's eyes. She took a deep breath, trying for a few moments to ignore her personal relationship with Darien and treat him with some detachment. "God, it doesn't look like he's eaten in two weeks," said Claire as she noted Darien's sunken face. She ran her hands down his chest, noticed his ribs felt even more pronounced then usual. "Eberts, the bag," she said again.

Eberts came up next to her and set the medical bag on the bed. Claire reached in and pulled out an I.V. line. She took out a needle and as gently as possible, inserted the needle into Darien's arm. Then she hooked the I.V. into the needle. 

"What can I do?" asked Bobby.

"Eberts brought some I.V. bags over. They're in the fridge, can you get them?" she asked.

"No problem, Keep," he said as he quickly got up and ran into the kitchen.

Claire rubbed Darien on the cheek. "Darien, look at me," she said.

Darien raised his eyes, eyeing her in a slight panic. 

"Darien, I'm not going to hurt you, okay. I need to get some nutrients into you because you're slightly malnourished," she said.

Darien nodded slightly and held out his arms, wanting a hug.

Claire ignored the tears sprouting from her eyes and leaned down into her husband, giving him the tightest hug possible. She held him there for several long seconds, wanting to comfort him and heal him and get him through this mess with one touch. She could feel his body shaking, and she knew that he was crying. She backed out of the hug and wiped at his eyes. "Darien, it's okay. Everything's going to fine, I promise."

"No, it's not," she heard him say softly. She glanced back at Bobby and Eberts, her look begging for privacy. 

Bobby set the I.V. bags on the bed and then grabbed Eberts. "Come on, Eberts, we're gonna go for a little walk."

"Robert, do you really think it's such a good idea to leave them?" asked Eberts.

"Shut up, Eberts, let's go," said Bobby as he practically shoved Eberts out the door.

Claire looked back at Darien, tears free falling down her own face. "Darien…"

"It's not, Claire. I killed someone in cold blood. I nearly killed Bobby. I don't know if I can…I'm a monster," sobbed Darien.

Claire leaned down and pulled him into a hug again. "You're not a monster. None of that was your fault Darien. When's the last time you were in Stage Five, huh?"

"Three years ago," answered Darien.

"Exactly. Before this, how many people have you killed that wasn't done in self-defense?" asked Claire.

"None," said Darien.

"Okay then. This wasn't your fault. This was someone using you to do their dirty work for them. I will not let you blame yourself for this, okay. Bobby sure as hell doesn't blame you. He didn't even get upset when you shot him. He was just worried about you," said Claire against Darien's quaking chest. She looked up at his eyes and attempted to smile. "I love you. I love you more than any other person in my whole life. I will not stand by while you let son of a bitch destroy you. You're better than that, and you're sure as hell more stubborn!"

Darien shook his head sadly. "I can't," he sobbed. 

Claire held him tighter, raising her head so she could kiss him on the lips. "Yes you can," she murmured against his lips.

He kissed her back softly and then his sobs gradually quieted. She gently raised herself off of Darien and reached for the I.V. bag. "I'm going to put this I.V. in and check you over. Then I want you to rest, okay," she said gently.

Darien nodded his head slightly and looked up at her, his eyes a little clearer than they had been earlier. "How are you?" he asked.

"What?" she asked absentmindedly as she got the I.V. going and hung it from a pole that Eberts had brought over.

"The kid, you, how are you guys doing?" asked Darien softly, wiping at his face.

She looked down at him and gave him the brightest smile she could muster. "I'm fine, she's doing great," said Claire.

Darien raised an eyebrow. "She?" he asked.

Claire nodded and sat down next to him on the bed. "She," said Claire. "Katie Fawkes is just fine," she said.

"Katie Fawkes? I like it," he whispered.

"Bobby picked it out," said Claire as she lifted up his shirt and winced when she saw the large bruise across his rib. "Bloody hell, the bastards broke your rib," she said.

"So were having a little girl," said Darien, the tears returning to his eyes.

"Yep, we sure are. I hope you're not too disappointed. I know you wanted a boy," said Claire softly as she pulled out some bandages and wrapped the injured rib.

"I think a little girl is perfect," he said. "She's going to be beautiful, just like her mother."

"And her father, don't forget her father," said Claire with a smile as she finished with Darien's rib and pulled down his shirt.

"Hopefully, she'll get as few traits from me as possible," said Darien as his eyes started to close.

Claire sighed and kissed him on the forehead. "Go to sleep, I'll be right here when you wake up."

Darien moaned and then relaxed against the pillow.

Bobby and Eberts returned at that moment and quietly made their way into the apartment.

"How's he doing?" whispered Bobby.

Claire shrugged. "I'm not really sure. He just needs to rest right now. You can guys can go, we'll be fine," said Claire.

Bobby nodded. "Okay. If you need anything, call me. I'll be back tomorrow," said he as he stepped to Claire and kissed her cheek.

Claire smiled and reciprocated the kiss, causing Bobby to blush.

"Keep, you're a married woman," he said.

"I won't tell if you won't," she said with a small smile. She glanced at Eberts and motioned for him to come over.

He walked to her and wrapped his arms around her.

"Thanks Eberts, for everything," she said as she also kissed him on the cheek.

Eberts smiled. "You're welcome, doctor. It was a pleasure keeping you company."

Bobby pulled at Eberts' arm. "Come on, let's leave them in peace," said Bobby as he dragged him towards the door.

Eberts let Bobby pull him to the door and the two co-workers left the apartment.

Claire shifted her position in the bed and lay down next to Darien, grabbing his hand and placing it in her own. Then she let the quiet of night force her into sleep.

**

Over the next several days, things were pretty much the same. Darien slept on and off, looking sad and depressed, not really saying much. Claire tried to get him to eat, but he refused, so she was forced to leave the I.V. in his arm. She was afraid that maybe this whole ordeal had caused her to lose her husband for good.

On the night of day five, Claire was exhausted and sore and wanted nothing more than to curl up in Darien's arms and go to bed. So she did just that. She piled herself into bed and pulled her body tightly against Darien, just wanting to feel his warm presence next to her. She was about to fall into a deep sleep when a sudden sharp cramp worked its way through her abdomen.

She sat straight up in bed and began shaking Darien. "Darien, Darien, wake up!" she cried out.

Darien opened his eyes and looked up at her with concern. "What's going on?" he asked.

"I think I'm having the baby!" she cried.

It was if those words restored him into life. "Okay, okay, hold on," he said as he carefully took the I.V. out of his arm and got out of bed. He held his arm as he ran around the room in a panic. "Did you pack a bag?" he asked.

Claire nodded. "It's in the bathroom."

Darien quickly ran into the bathroom and emerged several seconds later carrying a pink bag filled to the brim with clothes and other supplies. "Okay, um, car keys," he said as he looked around the apartment. "Ah ha," he said as he found them sitting on the kitchen counter.

"Call Bobby," said Claire as another cramp worked its way through her body.

"Okay, okay, call Bobby, check," said Darien as he reached for the phone and dialed Bobby's number. 

Bobby answered the phone with a sleep-filled voice. "Bobby Hobbes?"

"Hobbes, Hobbes, Keep's having the baby!" yelled Darien into the phone.

"Whoa, whoa, holy crap! I'll come get you," he said with excitement.

"No, no, I can manage. Just meet us at the hospital, partner," said Darien.

"All right, good luck. I'll see ya there!" yelled Bobby into the phone.

Darien hung up the phone and ran to Claire. "Come on, Keep, time to have our kid," said Darien as he gently took her arm and pulled her carefully out of the bed. "Are you okay?" he asked.

Claire smiled. "You're okay," she said as he walked her towards the door.

"What, what? I'm talking about you, here," he said as he grabbed her bag and helped her through the door.

"I'm fine, Darien. I just mean that you seem a lot better," she said with a grin.

"Yeah, well, something about your wife having a baby seems to snap you out of a depression," said Darien with a small smile, the first smile Claire had seen in a week. He pressed his forehead against hers. "Let's go," he said.

He somehow got her through the hallway, down the stairs and into Claire's SUV. Then he started the engine and tore out of the parking lot of the apartment in the direction of the hospital.

TBC


	11. Part 10

DS #9 A Life for a Life (10/10)

By Carol M.

Note: So it comes to an end. Thanks for all the kind words guys, I appreciate it. Up next, the disaster fic. It should be out in the next week or so and it guarantees to be a page turner, or well, more like a page scroller. After that, the D/B/C mission and maybe another story or two or three for Devil's Silver. Enjoy the last part, kids!

Darien sat in a chair in the waiting room, his hands gripping the sides of the chair tightly. He had gotten Claire to the hospital in one piece and they had whisked them both into a private room in the OB/GYN wing of the hospital. After several hours of screaming and a few choice curse words that Darien didn't even know were a part of Claire's vocabulary, the doctor came in and told them she was about to deliver. The doctor eyed Darien with excitement and handed him a pair of scrubs, but Darien had become paralyzed with fear. He pushed the scrubs away and mumbled something about going to the waiting room. That's where he had been ever since.

Alex was in the delivery room with Claire, offering words of encouragement and support, whatever it is that chicks do in the delivery room. Bobby was pacing the floor outside the delivery room, waiting for any news. The Official and Eberts were both sitting quietly in chairs next to Darien, nervous looks on both their faces.

Darien was terrified. He didn't know if he could handle a kid. He was so afraid of hurting her or hurting Claire again. So he had stayed away and tried to be as inconspicuous as possible.

After another couple of minutes, Alex burst out of the delivery room with a huge smile on her face. "She's here, she had the baby," she said with excitement.

Bobby jumped up and down and looked back at Darien with a look of joy on his face. "Come on, Fawkes, let's go meet your kid."

Darien shook his head in a panic. "I can't," he said.

Alex stepped towards him in anger. "What do you mean you can't? She's your kid for Christ sakes. Claire's waiting for you," she said incredulously.

Bobby gave Alex an irritated stare. "Can you give us a minute here?" he asked.

Alex saw the glint in his eye and backed off. "Yeah," she said softly. She eyed Eberts and the Official. "You want to see her?" she asked.

The Official and Eberts both looked at one another in surprise. "If that's okay?" asked the Official as he looked at Darien for permission.

Darien nodded. "Yeah, go in there, go ahead," he said.

The Official nodded, and then he and Eberts followed Alex into the delivery room.

In the meantime, Bobby had moved into the chair next to Darien. "What's the problem, Fawkes? You snap out of your little depression just like that and all of a sudden it's back. What's up?"

Darien looked at Bobby with scared eyes. "Bobby, what if I hurt her? What if I, god, what if I went QSM and hurt Katie? Or what if I hurt Claire, or hell, you again?" he said sadly,

"How many times do I have to slap some sense into that big-haired brain of yours?" asked Bobby.

"You're my partner, okay. You've saved my ass more times then I can count. A madman took your mind and your body hostage and made you do things that Darien Fawkes would never do. Let me ask you something, the last time you were in Stage Five before this whole mess, how many people did you kill?"

"None," said Darien.

"My point exactly. Even psycho Darien ain't that bad of a guy. You might push people around and you might do the occasional assault, but all in all, you're no killer," said Bobby.

"Yeah well, that not so bad guy also raped Claire. You forget that or what?" asked Darien

"We've been through this so many times, Fawkes. If Claire didn't love you and trust you with all of her heart she wouldn't be here. Do you think the Keep would have brought a baby into your lives if she thought it would be dangerous?" asked Bobby.

Darien shook his head. "I guess not," he said, eyeing Bobby with tears in his eyes. "Thanks, Hobbes. I love you, man. And I'm sorry I tried to kill you."

"Don't go getting all mushy on me now, D," said Bobby with a similar glint in his eyes as he pulled his partner into a hug. "I love you too, man," he said softly. He let Darien go after a few seconds and then eyed him expectantly. "So you gonna go in there or what?"

Darien wiped his face and nodded. "Yeah," he said, standing up.

Bobby gave his partner a little shove towards the door.

"What was that for?" asked Darien.

"Just in case you decided to wimp out and head for the exits," said Bobby as Darien opened the door.

Darien nearly passed out at the sight before him. The Official and Eberts were crowded on one side of a large hospital bed, while Alex was on the other, all eyeing a little person resting on Claire's middle. Darien looked at the little girl nestled on his wife's chest and nearly lost all of his breath. Claire looked up and saw Darien, a huge smile lighting up her face. Darien couldn't remember a time he had ever seen her look more beautiful.

She nudged the baby in her lap towards Darien. "Look Katie," she said.

Alex, Eberts and the Official all looked up at Darien and then back away from the bed, giving Darien some room. Darien slowly stepped to the bed and looked down at the little person staring back up at him. His heart melted right there and he knew he was in love. "Hey," he said as he reached his finger down at the baby's hand. Katie touched Darien's hand and then looked up at him curiously. "I'm your daddy," he said.

"You want to hold her?" asked Claire.

Darien stepped back, slightly frightened. "I don't know."

Alex rolled her eyed in irritation. "Don't be a wuss, Fawkes," she said as she stepped forward and carefully took the baby from Claire. She placed Katie gently in Darien's shaking arms.

Darien held onto Katie for dear life, so afraid he would somehow hurt her. But when he looked down in her tiny eyes, all he could see was innocence and love. He knew there was no way he could ever hurt something so perfect. He stepped over to Bobby with Katie securely in his arms. "Katie, this is your Uncle Bobby. He's your daddy's best friend," said Darien.

Bobby eyed him gratefully and then looked down at Katie, putting his hand on her arm. "Your gonna be a heartbreaker, kid. Just like your mom," he said, looking back at Claire with a smile.

Katie responded by yawning and closing her eyes.

Darien laughed. "Smart kid, already knows not to listen to anything you say," said Darien teasingly.

"Funny Fawkes, real funny. Let's just see whom this kid would rather hang out with on a Friday night, huh? Not you, that's for sure," he said.

Darien smiled and then carefully returned the baby to Claire's lap. "That's our kid," he exclaimed in disbelief.

The room filled with the soft sounds of laughter. At that moment, a nurse stepped in and eyed the bunch with a threatening glare. "We have to clear the room now. Mom and baby need the rest," she said.

They all nodded and started to shuffle out of the room. Darien kissed Claire on the lips and gave his new daughter a kiss on the forehead. "I'll see you guys in a little bit, okay?" he said.

Claire nodded and clutched Katie happily against her chest. "I love you, Darien," she said as the nurse started to wheel her out of the room.

"I love you too," he said with a smile. He walked out of the delivery room and sat back down in his chair, completely exhausted.

The Official sat next to him, eyeing him hesitantly. Bobby saw the look the Official was giving Darien and wrestled up Alex and Eberts. "Let's go get something to eat guys," he said. "You want anything, sir?" he asked.

The Official shook his head.

"What about you Fawkes?" he asked.

"Um, how about a steak, some potatoes and a glass of wine," he said.

"Cheeseburger, French fries and a coke, got it. You need to get some meat on your frail bones," he said with a teasing smile.

Darien nodded and watched Bobby, Alex and Eberts slowly walk down the hall towards the elevator. He could see the Official staring at him out of the corner of his eye. "Sir?" he said, turning his head to look at him.

The Official cleared his throat, giving Darien an intense stare. "I'm sorry, Darien," he said.

"What for? Now of this was your fault," he said.

"No, it was my fault. I should have protected you better, and when I found out you were missing I should have put all the bureaucratic b.s. aside and use all my power to get you back. I'm sorry you had to go through what you did," he said.

Darien shrugged. "So what's gonna happen now? Are we in trouble for busting up Royce's little operation or what?"

The Official smiled. "Actually, when I gave the president all the information about Royce selling his services to other terrorists, he was thrilled that we had taken him down. I also made it clear that you were with this Agency and this Agency only," said the Official.

"Wow, you managed to bully the president for me. I'm kind of touched here," said Darien. 

The Official shook his head. "You know, when I look at you and Hobbes, I can see the real definition of a partnership. It's about caring for and protecting the other person, no matter what. It's not about stacking up favors and owing debts. I guess Royce and I, we just didn't understand that," he said softly. He looked up at Darien with concern. "Are you going to be okay, kid?"

Darien nodded and smiled. "I think so. It might take a few visits to Bobby's shrink, but I think in a few weeks, you'll see a whole new Darien Fawkes."

"Well I'd settle for the old one just fine. You're a good agent, Fawkes. Maybe one of the best. So, as much as it pains me to lose your services for awhile, I'm giving you the month off," said the Official.

"Paid?" asked Darien.

"Don't push it, Fawkes," said the Official gruffly.

"Gotcha," said Darien.

The Official stood up from his chair. "Well, I should be going. Tell Eberts to meet me back at the Agency, we have a ton of paperwork to go through."

"Lucky him," said Darien as he also stood up.

"Enjoy your kid and your wife, Fawkes. You deserve it," said the Official as he started to walk down the hall.

"Hey sir," said Darien.

The Official turned around curiously.

"Thanks," said Darien with a sincere look in his eye.

The Official nodded. "Yeah," he said with a slight smile. He turned back around and continued to walk down the hall, realizing that maybe he had paid his debt to Royce or God or whomever it was that you owed when your life was spared from death. He had done it by saving Darien's own life. And that had to be worth something.

That's All Folks


End file.
